


Making Our History: Victor Nikiforov

by ImaTastyPorkCutletBowl, Spunky0ne



Series: On Our Love: Victor Nikiforov [2]
Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: M/M, VictUuri
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-07
Updated: 2018-10-24
Packaged: 2019-07-08 03:49:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 39
Words: 127,841
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15922286
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ImaTastyPorkCutletBowl/pseuds/ImaTastyPorkCutletBowl, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Spunky0ne/pseuds/Spunky0ne
Summary: After the Grand Prix Finals, Victor and Yuuri face new challenge training for Worlds.





	1. From Russia, with Love

It’s kind of odd, traveling alone this time after spending the greater part of a year coaching Yuuri Katsuki. I’d gotten so used to leaning over and sleeping on his shoulder on our flights here or there that even in first class, where I can just recline my seat and sleep comfortably, I don’t sleep at all. Instead, I sit, looking out the window and missing his cute face, his familiar voice and that sweet scent that always seems to be around him.

I can’t even talk to someone else, because I had to change my plans on short notice and took a different flight from Yakov and Yurio. Not that Yurio is particularly good company. But, he’s at least some company. God, when did I become so dependent on that? I feel pathetic and bored, staring out the window at nothing.

_Oh, it’s time to take my medication._

I search my carry-on and quickly realize that the sedative I was given is nowhere to be found. It’s not anything I need to panic about, I suppose. It’s meant to help me cope as I get my drinking back under control. But it’s been a few days since I lost it and drank myself into near oblivion.

I didn’t used to do things like that.

I did start drinking at a pretty young age, but I wasn’t one of the ones who drank very heavily. Instead, I’d have one or two and watch and take pictures of my friends who got wasted. That way, when Yakov occasionally caught me sneaking out, he wouldn’t yell at me as much. I didn’t really start drinking too much until more recently. Before going to Hasetsu, I was drinking more regularly, but I didn’t start getting wasted, myself, until I was away from home and in that new place where I could pretty much do anything I wanted and no one would yell at me at all. Even when I really started to overdo it, while Yuuri would scold me some, he wasn’t as scary as Yakov, and his parents were too nice to scold me.

I don’t think it was the everyday kind of drinking that put me where I am. The times I really overdid it were either times that I became overexcited or times when I was emotionally overwrought…like when Yuuri and I would have a really bad fight, or the time when Macca was ill and I had to go back to Hasetsu and watch Yuuri’s free skate from helplessly far away.

So, maybe as long as Yakov was looking over my shoulder and was constantly on my back to focus all of my energy on skating, I didn’t have the time or energy to be overly indulgent. I wonder if just going home and back to skating will be enough on its own to turn me back around.

_Maybe I don’t really need rehabilitation._

_Maybe I do._

_Maybe what I need is to not feel so damned lonely. I think that was what was making me question myself, even though I was on top of the skating world. I guess it’s strange to be lonely when I am surrounded by people who lust after me and cheer me on. But do those people really even see me? Sure, they see what’s obvious, that I have a desirable exterior. But, why is it that when anyone would get really close, when they’d get beneath that, they would always eventually leave?_

_I guess physical beauty and surface charms aren’t enough if you want people to really love you. But, why am I worried about this now? I have Yuuri. And it’s as Yakov says, Yuuri is the only one of my lovers who loved that I am human, that I am not perfect. Yuuri knows everything about me now, and despite my shortcomings, he still desires me._

_But Yuuri’s there and I’m…_

“Excuse me, Victor,” a familiar man’s voice says, interrupting my thoughts.

_I’m glad._

_My thoughts weren’t very happy anyway._

“Oh, hello Morooka,” I say, smiling, “I didn’t know you were on this flight.”

“I originally wasn’t, but then I was asked to travel to Saint Petersburg, last moment.”

“Is that right? Why is that?”

I start to feel a little uncomfortable as I notice his expression. Hisashi Morooka is a friendly person and enthusiastic about figure skating. When Yuuri had lost in his first try at the Grand Prix Finals, Morooka strongly encouraged him to keep trying. He is a person who always tries to see the best in others. I don’t think I’ve seen him wear this concerned expression before.

“Victor, there’s something that you should know,” he says, slipping into the open seat next to mine, “There are rumors circulating that there was some kind of incident in Barcelona.”

“What kind of incident?” I ask.

_I have a sinking feeling I already know. I mean, Yakov did do his best to protect my identity and privacy, but people are people, and people talk. Yes, I think I know what he’s going to tell me._

“An unidentified source from a Barcelona hospital has leaked that you were admitted there for some kind of medical treatment. Now, the details don’t seem to have been revealed, but I think you and I know that this kind of thing, if the flames get fanned, could be bad for you.”

Before I can really react, he places a hand on my arm.

“I know you’re aware that I don’t want to see something like that happen. It wouldn’t be good for the sport and it really wouldn’t be good for you.”

_Now I regret taking this flight alone. Unfortunately, my rather sudden decision to return for the Russian Nationals meant I didn’t have time to go back to Hasetsu as planned, and I had to change flights. There was no way around this. Anyway, what’s done is done. I have seconds to do something…to think of something._

“Are you saying this as a friend or are you saying this as a sportscaster?” I ask him, “Because you know that whatever may or may not have happened, something like that makes a difference.”

Morooka gives me a look that says he understands me asking him that.

“Right now, I’m speaking as a friend,” he answers, “It looks like you’re traveling unaccompanied, and I heard just before boarding that there are reporters waiting at the airport.”

_Damn it. Yakov’s flight is in the air now too. I wonder if he knows? He usually handles things like this. He’ll get there ahead of me, but I wonder if he’ll be able to get to me before the reporters do. I mean, I’ve handled a million interviews and even uncomfortable questions before, but nothing like this._

“Maybe you should think about what you want to do about that,” he suggests, “It’s best to have a plan, right? Obviously, you don’t want people to be prying into your personal business, but if you don’t say anything, then…”

“Speculation could get out of control. That’s what you’re saying.”

_If it was anyone else saying this to me, especially another reporter, I would suspect him of trying to convince me to give an official statement. I know better, and I think he does too. Yakov would tell me to keep my mouth shut and don’t talk to anyone. He’d tell me to let him do the talking._

“I don’t think it will be a problem,” I assure Morooka, “Yakov’s flight will be there ahead of mine. I’ll just wait until he contacts me.”

“You didn’t know?” Morooka asks sympathetically, “That flight was delayed.”

_Shit, can anything else go wrong?_

“Do you want me to run some interference for you?” he offers.

_It’s nice to have friends in the right places._

“What can you really do?” I ask him, “Don’t you think some of those reporters are going to know I’m traveling alone? As soon as I get off this plane and exit the gate, I’m going to be face to face with them. So, maybe I should just tell you.”

I’m surprised to see him frown like he does.

“I’m not trying to get a statement from you, if that’s what you think.”

“But maybe it’s better that I just give you one,” I offer, “After all, as long as it was just high spirits and overexcitement, people can handle that. I have a reputation for being the life of the party. So, let’s just say that the party got a little too lively and I drank too much and passed out. It happens all of the time, especially when things get exciting. I think the world can handle that, right?”

He gives me a look like he knows damned well it’s more than that.

“Look, if that’s the case, then I’m relieved, but if something is really wrong…you know I want to help.”

“Well, nothing major is wrong,” I tell him, “I overdid it and passed out. I got medical treatment and I am fine. I plan to be wiser in the future, especially now that I’m returning to the ice. I’m willing to say that on record to you.”

I can see perfectly well that he didn’t like that answer at all, but he nods.

“Okay. But…off the record? I’m kind of worried by some things I heard back in Barcelona.”

“Not to worry,” I chuckle, “What happens in Barcelona, stays in Barcelona, right?”

“You should probably hope that it does.”

I feel even worse as I watch him leave.

_Maybe I should have taken him up on the protection. I really don’t feel like dealing with all of that. Still, giving Morooka a statement gives me the ability to just not comment to anyone else. When they start speculating, he’ll head them off with a report on his little chat with me, and this will all go away._

_Unless it leaks that I’m going into rehab._

_I mean, my medical records are private. No one should know. But…word can get out, and if it does, then it will make me look more troubled, because it will be obvious that I was lying to Morooka. Maybe I should put the treatment off for a little while…just until there isn’t attention being focused on it._

_Yes, that would probably be best._

_After all, the problem wasn’t that I was drinking too much normally. It was that I have been drinking for emotional reasons and I had a couple of blackouts. But things will be better now, right? Yuuri is going to be moving in with me and we’re going to be skating together, so it’ll be fine, won’t it? It won’t be like it was before. I just have to get through the next few months, then we’ll be in the off season, and things will settle down again._

I comfort myself with that as the flight continues.

When we land, I disembark and I head for the gate, where, as Morooka said, there is a small crowd of reporters waiting. I smile as they step into my path.

“Victor, have you heard what’s being said about what happened in Barcelona?” a lady reporter asks.

“Is it true that you were hospitalized there?” another adds.

“Would you like to make a statement about that? There are rumors that you aren’t well.”

“I assure you, I am fine,” I tell them, “It was just an exciting atmosphere in Barcelona and I overdid it one time. I wasn’t hospitalized. I was just observed to make sure everything was as it should be. I’m grateful for the concern, but you’ll have to excuse me. I need to be going.”

I hurry to a waiting car and ride back home.

Unfortunately, I forgot that the renovation I ordered has begun, so that master bedroom and bathroom are not usable. Add to that, a lot of my things are in Hasetsu. I have some furniture, but all of the clothes I have are in my suitcase. I take the suitcase to my spare bedroom and spend a little while unpacking and searching for the bottle of pills I was taking. Unable to find them, I go to the kitchen to make some tea.

_Ah, but the ginger and chamomile teas that are more soothing are also in Hasetsu. I have coffee, but it’snot decaf, and I was warned that if I didn’t take the sedatives as prescribed, I would get jittery_

_What a pain._

It’s kind of late for going out to get tea, and I’m tired from the excitement and that flight back, so I undress and climb into bed, ignoring the million messages on my phone. An hour later, I still haven’t fallen asleep and I kind of feel twitchy. I take a hot bath, but all of my bath bubbles and things like that are not here. Still, the hot water does make me sleepy enough to drift off.

But as I start to go to sleep, I hear the doorbell and I know that there’s only one damned person it could be.

_You couldn’t wait until morning, Yakov?_

I put on a robe and stumble to the front door, peeking out to make sure it’s him before opening the door.

“Yakov, it’s late. Do you mind if we wait until morning to talk?”

“Do you want to tell me what the hell you were doing, talking to reporters about what happened in Barcelona without me?” he yells.

I close the doors to spare the neighbors, and I give Yakov a sleepy look.

“I knew what to say to keep things calm,” I tell him, “Morooka was on my flight. It’s fine. I told him I just overdid it, and that I was observed overnight and released. What’s wrong with that?”

“What’s wrong with that is that you are supposed to be going to rehabilitation,” he snaps, “You know because you made this statement, everyone will be watching you.”

“So, I’ll just wait a few weeks, until after Russian Nationals, and then I’ll start,” I explain, “I was going to have trouble doing that and training anyway.”

“That wasn’t the deal for your return to training, and you know it, Vitya!” he shouts, “You need to be in rehab now.”

“I told you I would go and I will, just not right this minute,” I try to soothe him.

“If you expect me to coach you…”

“Oh, you’re not going to do that, are you?” I ask, frowning, “because you know I don’t want another coach, and it’ll be bad if I try to go without one.”

I can practically see steam coming out of his ears, and I know I’m about to get a harsh scolding, so I cover my ears while he yells at me for awhile.

“Yakov, it’s really late. Can you finish scolding me in the morning. I have to train.”

“You’re not setting one foot on the ice until you do what you promised to do!”

“But, you said it yourself. If I go to rehab now, it’s going to get around that I’m going in for treatment of some kind. And the doctors can’t release information, and I know you won’t want to, so people will run wild with the speculation.”

“Why the hell couldn’t you just have kept your mouth shut like I always tell you! You did this on purpose so that you could put this off.”

“Yakov, I will be fine, but I do need some sleep. Do you mind if we talk tomorrow? We’ll work things out. I promise.”

“Grr, fine!” he snarls, “but you are coming home to Lilia’s house, where I’m staying with Yuri and her.”

“No, I don’t want to go there.”

“Why not? Lilia treats you like a prince.”

“She flirts with me too much,” I complain, “And if Yurio’s heard about all of the uproar, then he’ll be annoying. I won’t be able to sleep there at all. I’m fine here. I just need to go to bed.”

“There’s no way I’m leaving you here alone.”

“What? You think I have that much of a problem that I’ll drink myself to death tonight? I’m not going to do that. I’m just tired and I need to sleep if you don’t want me dozing off in training.”

“I still haven’t said you can train tomorrow.”

“Why would you not want me to train? I need as much ice time between now and the nationals as I can get in. You know that, Yakov.”

“You little miscreant!” he yells, “Do you think I don’t know what you’re doing? You knew when you talked to that reporter, that you wouldn’t be able to go to rehab right away. You wanted to put it off, didn’t you. But you need treatment…”

“Listen to you, going on and on,” I sigh, “I told you I would go and I will when my schedule is lighter. It will be good to wait until Yuuri’s here anyway, because they already said that I need good support. Now, why don’t you just go on home and let me get some sleep?”

“I told you I’m not leaving you alone,” he growls, “I’m staying here with you, and that’s final!”

“All right, all right,” I laugh, “if you really want to have a slumber party with me, it’s fine. Just be a little quieter. I’m going to sleep. Oh, and you’ll have to sleep on the couch, because I’m having the master bedroom and bathroom redone and I can’t use them right now.”

He grumbles a bit more and goes off to settle in, while I go back to the spare room and lie down. I can’t fall asleep right away, so I check my messages, I find several from Yuuri, asking about what’s going on with the reporters.

 _It’s fine_ , I send back, _Don’t worry about it. Someone at the emergency clinic must have passed the story around, but I’m handling it. Just don’t speak to anyone about it, and it will die down._

I set the phone down, but in a few seconds it makes a notification sound.

_Victor, are you all right? I found your pills in my things. I guess you put them in the wrong bag. Do you want me to send them to you?”_

At least I know where they are now.

_No, you don’t have to. I can get more if I need them. Get some rest now. You had a longer flight than I did. Love you._

_Love you too_ , he sends back.

I lie down to sleep, but I wake up again an hour later from a horrible nightmare, in a sweat and shaking all over. My heart is racing and I feel like I can’t calm down. Luckily, I remember how Hiroko taught me to help when Yuuri had panic attacks. This feels like one. So, I sit in bed, breathing slowly and focusing on the color of the bed covers, the light scent of paint from the construction, the softness of the bed, anything to help ground me. It takes a long time, and I’m still a little shaky and afraid to fall asleep, but eventually exhaustion takes over and I can rest.


	2. When Your Steps Feel Heavy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Victor's first day home is not what he expected.

“Vitya, wake up.”

_Ugh, waking up is the last thing I want to do right now. I’m so tired. I barely slept all night. You would think that finally coming home to Saint Petersburg, finally returning to the home I know, would allow me to sleep like a baby. But really? I slept better at Yutopia Katsuki. There were calm sounds there, and my bed was so comfortable, especially when I wasn’t sleeping alone. The best thing ever was when I would be curled around Yuuri’s body and Maccachin would press up against my back. Yes, to be sandwiched between them and to feel how warm their love was…_

“Vitya, get up!”

_Yakov?_

_Oh, right. I forgot he insisted on staying last night._

“Do you have to bug me so early?” I complain, burying my face in my pillow, “Go away.”

“What are you talking about?” he snaps, yanking the pillow out from under my head, “It’s late!”

_What? Am I eight years old again?_

I groan and peek at the clock.

_Is it that late already?_

_Damn it, I want to sleep now._

“I have students who will be waiting.”

“I’m coming,” I answer, dragging myself to a sitting position.

I stop and put a hand on my stomach, grimacing.

“What’s wrong with you? Why are you looking like…?”

I forget about being sleepy as a bout of nausea sends me hurrying to the bathroom, where I get pretty sick. I feel sweaty and cold after.

“Vitya!” Yakov calls, tapping on the door.

“It’s open,” I pant, pulling my robe tighter around my body and sitting back against the bathroom wall.

I close my eyes against the still strong feeling of nausea.

“Are you sick?” he asks, bending to feel my damp forehead.

“No,” I groan, “This is part of recovering. It’s either the ends of withdrawal or because I left my prescription in Yuuri’s things instead of mine when we left Barcelona.”

“What?”

“It’s okay. I was only on it for a short time to help with the stronger symptoms. Don’t worry about it.”

I can feel he’s glaring at me, even though my eyes are closed and it shocks me a little when he wraps an arm around me and helps me back to bed.

“You’ll rest today and start training tomorrow.”

“But, I’ll really be fine, Yakov, and I need to…”

“You think I want you throwing up on the ice?” he snaps, “Go back to sleep, Vitya.”

“You just yelled at me to get up!” I laugh, holding my stomach, “Now, you want me to sleep? Are you confused?”

“Grr, I’m angry!” he shouts, “You’ve made a damned mess of yourself and you don’t even take that seriously.”

“Oh, please don’t yell at me,” I complain, retrieving the pillow from beside the bed and covering my head with it, “I have a headache too.”

He doesn’t yell at me again, but he sighs in a way that makes me come out and sit up, looking at him more seriously.

_He looks more worried than mad._

“I really will be fine. Sorry I worried you,” I apologize.

He gives me a harder look and sighs again.

“You should eat something.”

“There isn’t a thing in the refrigerator,” I tell him, “I barely got home and was too tired for shopping.”

“Hmm, then you rest and I will go and get something.”

“But you have to…”

“You let me worry about that. If you’re going to be stubborn and insist on training even in your condition, then it’s my job to see you don’t kill yourself. Sleep a little longer. I’ll take care of things. Just remember, you owe me.”

“Right, I’ve got it,” I laugh, burrowing into the blankets, “You are an angel, Yakov.”

“And you don’t deserve me,” he growls as he heads for the door.

“Not at all,” I laugh as he grumbles and walks out.

I try again to sleep, but I’ve waked up too much, so I take a long, hot shower, breathing slowly and working to calm my still pretty agitated body.

_The symptoms should start to get better soon. I haven’t had any alcohol at all for four nights. I may be reacting to stopping the sedative now. They said that I should talk to a doctor here about when to stop. But, I don’t want to just go from drinking to taking addictive drugs. I’m already messed up from one. Why add another? I’m probably past the worst of the withdrawal, right?_

I do feel calmer by the time I head out of the shower, and I really start to feel like myself again when I put on my skating clothes and head into the kitchen, where Yakov has laid out a hot breakfast for us. I also see a line of grocery bags on the sink.

“I shopped for you, so that you wouldn’t go out and buy junk food to fill yourself with,” he says in a scolding voice, “You’ve probably been eating like a pig for eight months. Have you stepped on a scale in all that time?”

I actually haven’t, and I don’t plan to until I’m at least a few days into hard training, so I give him a little smirk and dig in to my breakfast. Yakov sits down with me and eats at a normal rate of speed, while I devour what’s in front of me.

“God, this is so good! Did you go to Ankita’s?”

“Of course. It’s the only respectable breakfast near here,” Yakov grunts, “You’re lucky I didn’t just collect slop from a dumpster for you, the way you disrespect me by leaving for almost a year and coming back with your body in this condition.”

“In what condition?” I ask, stopping with my fork half-raised.

“You must have gained ten pounds. Look at you!” he huffs.

“Yakov!”

I stand up and turn to look.

“I looked every day and I don’t think it’s any bigger!” I object.

He laughs as I grab a measuring tape from one of the drawers.

_Just…fuck, he’s right!_

_I probably did gain ten pounds, and that’s being nice._

“You’d think as much as I’ve been throwing up, I wouldn’t have gained anything,” I complain, looking at my breakfast and turning away in disgust.

“Vitya, where are you going?”

“I need to find a damned scale!” I shout back at him.

“Vitya, get back here and eat! Your blood sugar will be too low for training.”

“Where the fuck is my goddamned scale!” I yell, going through the bathroom, then ducking under the warning tape and entering what used to be the master bedroom and bathroom and finding it still stripped to the walls.

“GODDAMMITCANANYTHINGGOFUCKINGRIGHT?”

“Vitya, get back here and eat!” Yakov scolds me.

I stomp back to the table and pick at my food until I’ve eaten enough so he won’t complain, while Yakov fills my cupboards and fridge with the healthy foods he bought for me. When I’m done, we leave the house and climb into Yakov’s black sedan.

“You look pale,” he complains, “Do you still feel sick?”

“I’m fine,” I yawn, “except for being sleepy and having a big ass.”

“Don’t worry,” he laughs, “we’ll get rid of that.”

“You damned monster. You’re so mean to me!” I tell him in a sulky voice, “You should lie and say it’s not so big.”

“You ask for it, little brat,” he chuckles, “and you did neglect yourself and let your ass get big.”

“It’s not that big, is it?” I whine, putting my face in my hands.

He shakes his head and sighs.

“Yes.”

Then, he laughs as I deflate.

“I was kidding. It’s not that much bigger and we will get you back in shape.”

“I don’t like you very much right now.”

“Heh, this is just the beginning. I’ll know I’m getting somewhere when you yell at me that you hate me.”

“I could never hate Yakov.”

_It’s true, I couldn’t. Who else would do what he does for me?_

_We always just go right back to being like this with each other. He knows so much what I need._

I frown as I notice we’re not headed in the right direction for the ice rink.

“Where are we going?” I ask, “This isn’t the way.”

It doesn’t take me long to figure out what the old man is up to.

“You’re taking me to the clinic,” I accuse him, “Yakov, I didn’t even make an appointment yet!”

“You don’t need an appointment for intake,” Yakov answers, “You just go and a counselor asks you questions and you have another full physical. That’s all they do today.”

_What the…?_

“I didn’t give my permission for that!”

“Of course you did,” the old man says gruffly, “You gave me the right to act as your next of kin. I can okay any and all procedures…unless you want to go in and tell them you don’t want this.”

“Fine, that’s what I’m doing!” I shout at him, “I told you I would do this later. I’m not doing this right now!”

“But you know you need to.”

“I don’t! I don’t know that! And you don’t know that either. I don’t know what I need, but what I _don’t_ is being tricked into coming here. What if someone sees?”

“I called ahead this morning. They told me to come any time and there is a back entrance. There are safeguards in place to protect you from…”

“Damn it, I don’t care! This is not what I want and you know it!”

“Stop acting like you’re a child, Vitya!”

“Stop fucking treating me like one!”

_He really thinks this is okay? Springing this on me? Just bringing me here?_

He pulls into the back parking lot and I can feel when the car stops that I’m shaking all over. Yakov takes a breath and looks me over, then shakes his head.

“I’m going to ask you to do what you promised and go inside, Vitya,” he says calmly, “Just answer their questions and let them look you over.”

_But what if…?_

_Yes, that’s what it really is, isn’t it?_

_I’m afraid that if I walk into that place, they won’t let me walk out again. It’s strange. All this time, I’ve been sad that no one wanted to look past the charming smile and bubbling laughter. I wanted so badly for someone to see me and like me, not just for being handsome or a great skater, but for being kind of lazy, a workaholic when it comes to my career, a bit of a smartass, kind of a child. But…these people are going to look at me and see everything that’s wrong. I don’t want that at all. I just don’t._

I can’t look at Yakov, so I lean forward and put my face in my hands.

“I think I’m going to be sick. I hate you so much right now, you old bastard! You have no right to do this.”

_After just saying that I could never hate him? I say something like that? I’m just so damned angry!_

I turn my head away so he won’t see that I can’t stop myself from shedding tears. I’m so mad at him.

But he’s not the one who did something wrong. Even though I’m angry and feeling sick and crying, I know it’s not Yakov who is the problem.

I made him a promise.

I think back to when I was eight years old and Yakov took me to the dorm room at the training center for the first time. He sat me down on the bed and looked down at me. I was crying then too, because even though I loved skating, it was scary to be away from home, from the family I knew. At that moment, I was angry. I was lonely. I felt sick inside too. And Yakov took my hand and comforted me.

_“Vitya, it’s normal to feel sad and afraid being away from home like you are. But, you can come to me. If you don’t understand something or you feel anything bad, put your arms around me and hug me. I will be here for you.”_

He has never failed to be there for me.

And that time I had to leave Yuuri, I told Yuuri that same thing.

_“If there’s something you don’t understand or you need something, just hug him and he will be there for you.”_

I still want to hate him for bringing me here, but really, Yakov isn’t the one who is responsible for me being here. I screwed up my body, drinking too much and drinking for the wrong reasons. I promised him I would come. I really don’t know how I will go inside, so instead, I hug him.

For me, Yakov’s arms are home. He is gruff and cranky. He yells at me all of the time and some days can’t find a nice thing to say about me. But he has also loved and protected and given to me for so many years.

_Why?_

_Why is that?_

_What did I ever give this old man to make him take care of me like that? No money could pay him back for the shit that I’ve given him. Words can’t thank him for what he’s done as a coach and as a father figure. I don’t know anyone else like him, and I don’t know what I would do without him._

_I suppose I have a clue about that, looking back at how I went so wild when I lived in Hasetsu. I was just never loose in such an environment. I’ve lived in Russia and been on a schedule. Except for the sneaking out, I ate when I was told, and what I was told to eat. I worked hard and grew strong. I walked at the edges of the path sometimes, but Yakov kept me on the straight and narrow, for the most part._

_Did I really never learn to take care of myself?_

_Did I rely on him too much to think for me?_

_What did I do wrong? Because I know Yakov didn’t force that booze down my throat. I did this to myself, and I have to dig myself out of it._

_Wait!_

_Is he…?_

_Is he crying too?_

I’ve never, not in all of the time I’ve known him, seen Yakov cry over anything. I can’t look at him. I keep my face buried in his shoulder and breathe in his familiar scent, distracting myself with the feel of the rough material of his coat. It takes awhile, but eventually I stop feeling too sick and awful to lift my head. I pull free of him and turn away without looking at him.

“I can see you won’t take no for an answer, so fine. I’ll go.”

“Good boy,” he says quietly.

He doesn’t say anything else and he doesn’t look at me as I open the car door. I get out and close the door gently, then take a breath and walk towards the door. It opens as I approach and a young man who, for a moment, makes me think very fondly of Yuuri, stands back to let me in.

“Good morning. You’re Mr. Nikiforov, right?”

“Yes.”

“I’m Stefan. I’ll be helping you today. Will you come this way, please?”

I pause for a moment to look back and I instantly wish I hadn’t, because I’ve never seen Yakov Feltsman with his face buried in his arms on the steering wheel of his car, looking like I just made him have to do the most painful thing he ever endured.

_I was right in thinking that I don’t deserve him._

_I feel like such a piece of crap for doing this to us._

“Stefan, will you give me a moment?”

I walk back to the car and climb inside, then I hug him again and put my hands on his face, looking into his sad eyes.

“I’m sorry. You were right to bring me. I’m not angry, okay?”

It’s like he doesn’t know what to say, so he just nods as I let go and leave the car.

“I’ll be here when you are done,” he says, regaining some composure.

It’s the last thing I feel like doing, but I give him a warm, loving smile.

“I know you will. That’s why I can calm down and go inside.”

I still don’t want to go inside, but the steps are a lot easier, knowing that I’m not really walking in there alone.


	3. Rebuilding Strength

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yakov and Victor struggle with how to deal with his rehabilitation amidst the demands of competitive skating.

By the time Stefan and his friends at the recovery center finish with me, I’m pretty convinced that I would agree to never have another drop of liquor for the rest of my life if it meant not having to set eyes on them, or this place again. From the moment I walk in and Stefan sits down with me and starts asking questions, I know I won’t like this at all. The questions begin innocently enough, just the basic facts of who I am, where I live, and what I do. But they go on from there to invade every part of my public, private and yes, my sex life. Then, I am sent to a staff doctor, who has me undress so that he can put his cold, gloved hands all over me while asking me a fresh round of questions, not just about alcohol use, but also my eating habits, social interactions, whether or not I ever injure myself on purpose or make myself sick, and about my sex life. Seriously, I thought this was about me drinking. What is the fixation with where I put my penis?

I half hear something about sexual responsibility and making sure that I don’t expose my current partner to any diseases. Did he not hear me tell him that I was just tested for STDs and don’t have any? And for god’s sake, even though I’ve slept with a lot of people, I haven’t had a sexual partner for five years!

Anyway, after all of that, Stefan and his friendly smile return to tell me that all of my testing and information will be considered and they will contact me shortly to have a conversation about my fitness for outpatient therapy.

_Why can’t they just get it over with?_

I’m on edge and practically clenching my teeth when I walk out and slink into Yakov’s car. He glances at me, and I guess he reads that I’m a volcano that will explode at the first provocation. He drives me straight to the ice rink and bullies me into putting on my skates. I don’t feel like doing anything but hiding under my blankets at home and never coming out, but still, it only takes a half hour or so on the ice, moving in calming figures and my heart stops racing like it’s in a panic. I stop feeling shaky and everything seems better. I move into some spins and work on the beginnings of what I’ll do for the rest of this season. Yakov remains nearby, but he says nothing at all to me all day. I’m almost mad. I know that I wasn’t in any shape to talk about what happened at the recovery center, but this awful silence isn’t helping either. He must have scared the other skaters into staying away from me too. Even Yurio doesn’t come near me. I’m just wondering what the hell to do when my phone rings and I see Yuuri’s picture and number on the screen. I hurry off the ice and accept the call.

“Yuuri!”

“Victor?” Yuuri says, sounding a little worried, “Sorry to call during your practice, but I didn’t hear from you earlier while I was practicing. Are we starting the conferencing tomorrow?”

“Oh…yes, Yuuri. I’m sorry about that. I was going to call today, but…”

_God, this is so…_

“I ah…was having that first clinic appointment.”

“You were?”

_Why does he sound so surprised?_

_Why does he have to sound so pleased?_

“How did it go?” he asks a little more tentatively.

“Well enough, I suppose,” I sigh, “I didn’t start drinking again.”

“Victor!”

“Sorry. I just don’t like it very much. Who would? I had to answer questions that no one should be asking me, then a doctor examined me, even though they just did that in Barcelona, and I’ve had a full physical this year. They say they’ll be in touch with me in the next day or two to make a recommendation. They gave me more pills, but said I don’t have to take them if the withdrawal symptoms aren’t too bad, which they haven’t been.”

_Okay, that’s not quite true, but he doesn’t need to be worrying about me._

“It’s really good that you got that started,” he says encouragingly, “I’ve been worried about you.”

“You don’t have to be,” I reassure him, “How is Maccachin?”

“Oh, he’s doing great. He pretty much goes with me everywhere. I think he misses you, though. He always wants me to sleep in your room with him, and that’s fine with me since I miss you too.”

“I miss you both also,” I tell him, “Give him a hug and tug on his cheeks for me.”

“I will.”

“How did your first training session go? You warmed up easy, right? After a competition, it’s important to…”

“Warm up easy to let everything relax. I did that. I focused on figures, steps and spins. No jumps, just like you told me to do.”

“And everything felt good? No soreness or anything?”

“I felt fine after. Takeshi helped me stretch out really well and I feel perfect.”

“Glad to hear it,” I answer, feeling more like myself as we fall into our normal roles as coach and skater, “So, tomorrow, warm up easy again and you can do more work on spins, then start practicing your programs and I’ll help you focus on any trouble spots. Yuuri, you will win the Japanese Nationals. I know you will.”

“I promise I’ll do my best.”

“And when you win,” I tell him, smiling at the thought, “we will start making wedding plans.”

“I can’t wait.”

“I feel the same.”

“Victor…please take good care of yourself. I’ll be looking forward to your call tomorrow.”

“Me too. I love you, Yuuri.”

“I love you too.”

_Why do I feel the lightness drain out of me when he leaves me?_

_Am I more addicted to alcohol, or am I more addicted to him?_

“Ugh, stop looking so damned pitiful!” Yurio complains as he walks past me, “You need to at least try to get into proper shape to compete with me.”

I lift my eyes slowly, giving him a look of amusement.

“Compete with you?” I repeat, as though the words seem unnatural in my mouth, “I could be half dead and still defeat you.”

“Huh! Right, as if,” he spits back, “You’re fat and out of shape from babysitting that little Japanese piggy boyfriend of yours. You’re lucky Yakov is letting you compete. You’re a goddamned shame.”

“How much did Yakov pay you to say shit like this to me to get me motivated?” I ask sarcastically.

“You think he has to ask me to tell you how it is?” Yurio scoffs.

He turns and starts to skate away.

“Is it working?” he asks in a voice that just sounds sad.

“I’ll let you know,” I answer, “when I kick your ass at nationals.”

“There’s no way you’re beating me at nationals,” he huffs, “I’m going to kill you and eat the leftovers.”

“Good luck with that,” I say more cheerfully, watching as he skates away.

“Vitya,” Yakov says, finally breaking the long silence between us, “we should talk about the plan for your comeback.”

He gives me a measured look.

“Come and we’ll talk in my office.”

_I guess I know why he doesn’t talk to me out here where anyone can hear._

“All right,” I say defeatedly, heading off the ice and slipping the blade guards onto my skates.

I follow him to the office and sit down in a chair opposite his. Yakov sits down and meets my eyes across the desk.

“I will be honest with you. I don’t know if you will be competition ready in time for nationals, as you planned.”

“Why is that? You know that today was my first day back, and it hardly counts as a training day after how I spent my morning. How can you make a judgment from just what you saw today?”

“It’s not just by looking at your performance on the ice that I’ve come to this. I know it’s a sensitive subject, but with you needing rehabilitation, I just don’t see how you can prepare properly. You badly need stamina training, which requires time up at the higher elevation training center. How are we supposed to go there when you will be starting treatment here? You know that even though they will work with your daily schedule, you will need to be here for daily check-ins as well as group and individual therapy.”

“Then maybe I’ll just need to have individual counseling,” I offer, “Many skaters who have issues to deal with choose to have an individual counselor on staff. I know you’re aware of that.”

“But is that going to give you what you need, Vitya?”

“I am a figure skater!” I shout at him, “I am almost twenty-eight years old and I have a shelf life that grows shorter by the minute! I am not going to give up half of next season because this therapy made me miss out on qualifying for the next Grand Prix Series. You can’t ask me to do that!”

“I am thinking of what’s best for you as a person, not just as a skater. Vitya, I sat there in the hospital with you all that night in Barcelona, wondering if you would even live! This is no joke.”

“I’m not treating it as one,” I insist, “I am sorry that I worried you like that. You don’t know how sorry I am. But I survived and I am not going to let something like that happen again. I swear I won’t.”

“But you promised that you would go to rehabilitation,” he reminds me.

_Does he think I could forget?_

“I know,” I acknowledge, “Fine, so let’s make an agreement.”

“What kind of agreement?” he asks sternly, “And if you aren’t keeping your word about going to…”

“I _will_ go to rehab after worlds.”

“That’s not…” he begins.

“When the recovery center calls, I will arrange for a counselor to be placed on my personal staff to advise me, one-on-one until the skating season ends. I can do the outpatient rehab in the off season.”

He gives me a doubtful look.

“I don’t know,” he says worriedly, “We would really need to be sure it’s the right thing.”

“I don’t understand how you can possibly see me missing another half season being a good thing. You were already complaining about me being out of practice. We just need to face the facts, Yakov, rehab is not feasible right now.”

He goes quiet then, and I feel a weight hanging over me as I watch the man who has been a father to me struggle with himself to figure out what to do.

“I only wish that the stakes weren’t so high,” he says finally, “I don’t mind telling you, I don’t like this. I think you are making a mistake, not doing this rehab sooner. It may be harder to get through later.”

“Or it may be the same or it may be easier,” I add, “We don’t know. Who does? Anyway, can we think about this a bit before jumping in. I mean, we haven’t even heard about the results of my intake today. They may be completely willing to work with us on this.”

“I hope so,” Yakov says in a tired voice, “I don’t want to see you make the wrong choice.”

For some reason, his words just make me feel angry all over.

“Why are you being so negative about this?” I ask, leaning forward and putting my hands on his desk, “For someone who says he supports me, it seems like you’re just pushing me towards this because you’re afraid. You’ve never let me allow fear to make my decisions for me. That’s not what you taught me to be like at all!”

“And maybe that’s why we are where we are!” he says slamming his hands down on the other side of the desk and standing, “Vitya, I did do my best with you all of these years, but…”

“What are you saying?” I demand.

_I can’t believe I’m hearing this from him, of all people!_

“Are you trying to say that it’s somehow your fault that all of this happened? You can’t really think that, can you?”

“What am I supposed to think?” he asks, frowning, “I let you have your way too much.”

“No, you didn’t!”

“But I did, Vitya. You were headstrong and because I had no children of my own, I let you do what you wanted too much.”

“No, that’s not true. I mean, I do sometimes ignore you, but not about the things that matter.”

“This matters!” he yells, slamming his hands down on the desk again, “Whether you admit it or not, whether you even know it or not, this is your life we are talking about. You want to complain that losing half a season is bad. That may be true, but losing you would be far worse.”

“You aren’t going to lose me!” I shout at him, “I’m not going anywhere. Yakov, my parents put me in your care all of those years ago, because they knew I loved skating and they trusted you to help me become the best skater I could be. I may have given you trouble, but you put your foot down on the things you knew you had to. You just didn’t know that I would become a heavy drinker.”

“We know now, don’t we?”

I see it then, the real fallout of that horrible night in Barcelona. It’s true that it hurt me, but what I did to myself that night hurt Yakov badly too…so badly that he’s become unsure of what to do to make sure that nothing like that happens again. I can see that we won’t get anywhere until we get past this.

But how?

I didn’t make the best choice in Barcelona, and I did something dangerous that could have gotten me killed. You have to trust that I know how serious this is. I am going to confront it, but I need to feel like you’re with me, Yakov.”

“I am with you,” he says in a surly voice, “I just don’t know how best to be there. I don’t know, for example, if I did the right thing today by tricking you into going to the recovery center. Is it really helping if I make you do it? Alcoholism is something you have to admit to having and really try to defeat.”

“I am aware I have a problem,” I insist, “and I am going to take care of it. You don’t have to worry so much that I won’t.”

“But the question of your return to skating…”

“It isn’t yours to decide,” I say firmly, “Yakov, you have to let me do this. Skating is my life. You know that. You can take the booze and keep it, but if you take skating away from me, then there is nothing left for me to fight for.”

“I know that,” he sighs, “I admit, I really don’t know what is best.”

“Then, if you don’t know what’s best, why don’t we wait and see what the recovery people say before we start making decisions about this season?”

“I suppose that makes sense,” he agrees, “Very well, we will proceed as though the season will go forward as planned. Do you have your programs together?”

“I know what I’m doing,” I assure him, “I have the moves planned and the music chosen. My costume will be ready early next week. I am as ready as I can be.”

“Fine. We work on stamina then. As soon as we hear from…”

“They are going to take a few days at least to look over the information before contacting me to set up an appointment. In the meantime, I’ll do the stamina training at the mountain rink.”

“But that’s far from here,” he objects, “and when the recovery center calls…”

“I will set up an appointment to talk to them before nationals,” I promise him, “I will do that, and we will decide then what to do for my rehabilitation. Anything I begin will likely have to wait until after nationals anyway.”

Yakov gives me a doubtful look.

“I am not going to be able to go with you for a few days.”

“It’s fine. I’ll go on my own and get a head start.”

“I was thinking it would be good to bring Yuri too.”

“He could use the training,” I chuckle, “You know, a lot of why Yuuri could beat him so easily that time in Japan is because Yuuri’s stamina is far better than Yurio’s. It evened out in the finals, but Yuuri is improving now too.”

“Exactly what I told Yuri,” Yakov sighs, “He seems to think he doesn’t need to go there to work on it, but I am going to insist.”

He gives me a look like the whole situation is my fault, and I can’t help smiling at that. My decision to go to Yuuri in Hasetsu really put the fire under so many other people to work hard and become stronger.

_God, I miss him!_

“Vitya, getting back to the subject at hand, I think it’s advisable to have a person on staff go with you to the mountains until I can arrive.”

“You really think I’ll have time or energy for getting drunk while training there?” I chuckle, “It’s going to be hard enough to have the energy for my skating at the higher elevation.”

“Ah, but every evening, you usually indulge in hot toddies or whatever hot liquor drinks you can get your hands on.”

“I’m going to ask you to trust me, Yakov,” I tell him, “I will be concentrating on my skating and nothing else. I am not going to drink while I am there.”

He still looks doubtful, but he nods anyway.

“Go on, then. I will see you at the mountain resort.”


	4. We Are Never Alone

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Victor begins training amidst his battle against addiction.

The mountain facility that we use for high elevation training is actually a restored resort that a former champion ice hockey player purchased for his own needs, some time back. When he retired, he moved there to live and he invited both hockey players and figure skaters to rent rooms and ice time for their training. Because all skaters have some weakness of some kind, and mine has always been stamina, the higher elevation will challenge my body and give me a chance to become stronger. The simple, cold fact is, if I am going to be competing against someone who is over ten years younger than me, and who is highly talented and motivated, as Yurio is, then I need to push myself to some extremes to be ready.

_Damn it, I really created a monster, giving him the Agape program and using Yuuri to motivate him, didn’t I?_

I know I’m about to pay the price for all of that as I pack my things, then take a break from it to video conference with Yuuri. I make the call on my laptop and Yuuri answers quickly. The first thing I see is Macca, who whimpers and barks when he hears my voice and sees my face on Yuuri’s screen.

“Victor, it’s so good to see you!” Yuuri says, looking to me like he’s having as hard a time being away from me as I’m having, being away from him.

“It’s good to see you too,” I tell him, “You have no idea how much I miss you and Maccachin.”

He frowns and looks more closely at me.

“Are you feeling all right?” he asks, “You look really pale.”

“Oh, it’s nothing,” I assure him, picking up a hand towel and running it over my face, “I was just packing, getting ready to go up to our mountain facility. If I am going to be competing with you at worlds, I need to improve my stamina. I wouldn’t want you to be jumping circles around me and making me look bad.”

“Aw, you could never do that,” he laughs softly.

“Are you warmed up?”

“Yeah, all stretched out and ready to go.”

It isn’t really the same, being so far away and watching Yuuri on a monitor. I would much rather be there, skating alongside him and being able to model things in person. Still, it’s a way to be with him, even when we’re not in the same place, so it’s better than not being there at all. Yuuri is completely comfortable with both of his programs now and I find that there isn’t much to pick at. He really has come a long way from that first day when I went to coach him.

“It’s looking almost perfect,” I tell him as we end the video conference. Just keep working on those few details.”

“I will,” he promises, “Take care of yourself, Victor.”

“I will. And you take care of yourself and Maccachin.”

“Sure thing.”

He gives me a look that tells me there’s something more he wants to say, but then he can’t seem to find the words. I watch as his fingers extend and it looks like he’s touching my image on his screen.

“I love you, Victor…so much that it hurts.”

I have to close my eyes for a moment at that.

“I love you too, Yuuri.”

_I hate this empty feeling of being away from them. I want this time to pass quickly so that we’re together._

I close my laptop and finish packing my things, then leave for the drive up to the mountain facility. It’s cold, of course, but the weather is clear and there isn’t a lot of traffic, so the drive is relaxing. It gives me time to slow down and think about everything that is happening. I’m glad to be getting back into training. I think once my focus is fully on that, things will be better. When I’m skating, everything always seems to feel better. It’s always been that way. I remember feeling a lot of anxiety when I was young, because I didn’t like when my parents would argue. Being little, it was scary to hear their raised voices and to see my father looking so angry. Yakov would tell me that all couples argue, and that I was just being overly sensitive, but to this day, I feel physically ill when I hear loud arguments. Even that once when I argued with Yuuri, I left, rather than to start really shouting at him.

I feel a little shiver, thinking about that, and for some reason, I have a sudden recollection of Yakov laying a hand on my shoulder and me making a sound like it hurt, then pulling away from him.

_What was that?_

Then, I’m not sure it is a recollection. I don’t recall it actually happening. I just feel a sense of being outside my body and seeing it, like maybe it was something I dreamed. I don’t know. I don’t remember waking up from dreaming that.

_It’s strange._

_But, maybe it’s just everything that’s going on. I’ve been under a lot of stress, plus I have been taking a new medication. I think getting away up here will be good for me._

My nerves settle again as the drive continues for quite some hours before I reach the resort and pull into the valet area.

“Victor!” the parking attendant greets me, “It’s good to have you back.”

“Good to see you, Maret,” I greet him.

I head inside, and I begin to feel much more at home. Because stamina has been my biggest problem for awhile, I’ve come to the resort a lot to train, so I know pretty much everyone.

“Well,” says a condescending voice as I head to the counter to check in, “If it isn’t Victor Nikiforov…or should I say, _what’s left of Victor Nikiforov_?”

The snarky comment comes from a male skater about my age. His name is Andrei Fedkin, and he has long considered himself to be on my level, although he hasn’t qualified for the Grand Prix Finals nearly as often as I have, and he has never actually beaten me, except in a few individual events. He’s a good skater, but he has more of a tendency to win by playing psychological games with his opponents. When I was younger and more vulnerable to that, Yakov wouldn’t tolerate him being near me…but Yakov isn’t here. Still, we’re a lot older now, and even though I rankle at his presence, I don’t feel intimidated by him at all.

“Lovely to see you, as always, Andrei,” I say, smiling as though I didn’t hear the insult, “I suppose I’ll be seeing you around.”

He gives me a wicked smirk.

“Sure. Let’s have a drink later.”

_Huh. He must have seen something in the news about me being admitted for overdoing it in Barcelona. Of course, if Morooka hadn’t calmed that all down, it would have been much worse. As it was, there was some attention at first, but it died out pretty quickly._

I leave Andrei looking after me and go to check in. Within a half hour or so, I’m settled into my room, a suite that overlooks the outdoor ice rink, where I will train when the weather is good. There is an indoor rink as well, for when it’s too stormy outside. I can’t help but smile at being here again. Despite the annoyance of that Andrei being here, everything else is pretty serene. It’s not long before I’ve got my skates and I go down to take advantage of the good weather, and to get myself stretched out after the long drive.

I’m careful not to start too strenuously. It will take a few days to get acclimated, then I can push myself a bit to build my stamina. Instead of focusing on pushing myself, I keep my moves gentle and slow. It’s so relaxing that it makes everything start to disappear into that good feeling.

_I’ve really missed training. I wouldn’t give up my time in Hasetsu, training Yuuri, but I didn’t focus on my own training at all during that time. Whatever I did, I did to have fun. It was good to have a break. I just wish that maybe I hadn’t been so indulgent that I fell into bad habits._

“You’re looking a little shaky. Feeling all right?”

_Doesn’t that idiot have anything better to do? What, does he just watch to see when I’m here? I don’t like people like him. They don’t do anything for the sport of figure skating by interfering with other skaters’ minds._

I ignore Andrei and continue skating gently until my need for food and a warm drink overtakes my enjoyment of the ice time. I head to the restaurant and sit down to a delicious meal. And while I admit to having a longing for hot chocolate with a little something extra, the chocolate is good on its own. I eat slowly, grateful for the fact that Andrei doesn’t make any more appearances before I head to bed for the night.

With the workout and the good food, I start to feel sleepy, but actually falling asleep takes a long time. I’ve been having so much trouble with that. I look at the bottle of pills a few times, but I don’t want to resort to taking them. It’s only a coping mechanism and I want to get through this. I’m not losing sleep because of anything emotional. This is because the lack of alcohol in my system after I was used to having it for a long time, caused my body to want alcohol as a means of settling down. I get jittery and my heart speeds up. But at least this time, I don’t start feeling nauseous, like I was before. Eventually, I do drop off to sleep.

But when I do, I have more nightmares.

It’s really strange. I know that the nightmares are vivid and whatever is in them is scary, but when I sit up and I’m not in them anymore, I can’t remember them. I have some recollection of screams and crying. I remember my heart racing so fast it hurt, but I can’t remember a single detail. Again, I’ve been told that this could happen as my body struggled to cope, so it isn’t cause for a lot of concern, it’s just uncomfortable. I end up sleeping in a bit to compensate before heading to the ice for my first full training day.

I meet with a staff trainer, who is there as much to make sure I acclimate successfully as to watch me skate. We work slowly together a little bit on the ice, then when we are warm, we leave it to fully stretch out. The familiar routine gets my mind focused, and I barely notice when Andrei arrives and begins his workout nearby. He seems pretty focused too, and I can see that he has improved in his skating this season. He didn’t make the Grand Prix Finals this time, but he does, I hear, plan to compete at nationals. That makes it worth me looking over occasionally to see what he’s doing. It looks like he has a new coach, not surprising since he goes through coaches like drinking water on a hot day.

I turn my attention back to my own training and as the session goes on, I start to feel the elevation. I slow my movements then and let my heart rate drop. I’ll push myself more later. Right now, the important thing is to work my way slowly forward. The trainer I’m with has worked with me before, so he’s good at reading my responses. He’ll continue to be the one assigned to work with me the whole time I’m here.

“It’s looking good so far,” he tells me, “You should go and have something to eat. I’m sure you must be starved.”

“Absolutely,” I chuckle.

I always get really hungry when I train here. It’s cold and I work hard, so the hot food feels wonderful after that. I head to the café and the waitress greets me with a friendly smile.

“For one?”

“No,” says Andrei, appearing behind me, “We’re together.”

He gives me that annoying wicked smirk.

“Let me buy you lunch, Victor.”

_I won’t let him get to me._

“Of course.”

I never stoop to returning the rudeness of someone like him. In fact, there’s a strategic reason to sit with him and let him try to play with my mind. I’m savvy enough to know every trick he will pull, and I can frustrate him. Andrei’s weakness is his temper. If he gets angry, then he skates with a lot less grace. His high distractibility during those times has cost him more than a few trips to the podium.

“Can I bring you something to drink?” the waitress asks as she seats us.

“Hot chocolate with peppermint schnapps,” Andrei answers, “You want the same, right Victor?”

“Just the hot chocolate,” I answer.

“Ah, being a good boy today,” he chuckles as the waitress heads off to get the drinks, “Not like in Barcelona?”

“I don’t know what you mean,” I say casually.

“Oh, I heard all about your misbehaving there. But, you know, it’s good to see you misbehaving a little again. You were starting to get a little boring and full of yourself.”

“Was I? I didn’t notice.”

“Heh, cute. I was surprised to see you’re dating Yuuri Katsuki. Can’t say as I blame you. He’s a good looking guy. Flexible?”

“Yuuri is a talented skater,” I answer, ignoring the obvious nettles in his words, “I was pleased with his performance this season.”

“I’m sure you were,” Andrei answers, “So, is he going to join you here or was it just a one season fling? You don’t tend to hang onto partners for long, do you?”

_I wouldn’t let this trash within a hundred miles of Yuuri. While I might not be overly vulnerable to his kind of mental play, Yuuri? Well, he’s still learning to tune that out._

“You change them kind of like clothes, right?”

“While you seem to have trouble hanging onto both women and coaches,” I answer saucily, “What happened to Alexi? Or was it Fedor?”

He flinches at the second name, because I’m sure all of Russia saw their very public breakup.

“Nice,” he laughs, “Good to see you haven’t completely lost your timing. They say that’s the first thing to go, right?”

“I wouldn’t know.”

I get a respite from his games as we receive our drinks and order our food. He switches to small talk, obvious trying to bring my barriers down. Well aware of his tactic, I switch to asking about how his training has gone and what girlfriend he has now, then about his coach. The only thing Andrei likes better than playing with minds is talking about himself, so I manage to get through most of my meal before he starts playing with me again.

“So,” he says, pausing to clear his throat, “I heard a little rumor and I wondered if it was true.”

“Oh, Andrei, you know you should never believe what you read in the tabloids. It’s funny, but it’s almost never true.”

“Is it true you’re in rehab?”

_How would he hear something like that? We were careful about that._

“Where did you hear that?” I ask, keeping a casual pose and looking into his eyes directly.

“Oh, here or there. Not sure I recall. I suppose it could have just been speculation or something.”

“Well, you shouldn’t believe everything you hear. Who knows? It might come back to haunt you.”

He flinches visibly at that, because during one event a little while back, I overheard him intimidating another skater and set up a little payback that unsettled him and cost him a place on the podium. I usually don’t interfere with other skaters, but I’m not above turning the tables on someone like him.

“So, you’re saying you’re not in rehab for drinking?”

“No.”

_I haven’t begun the program, so it’s technically not a lie. And, it is none of this bastard’s business if I am._

“Would the two of you like some dessert?” the waitress asks.

_Good timing._

“No, thank you. I’m full.”

“Me too,” Andrei answers.

He waits until she walks away.

“Probably good not to overdo it, what with you having taken some time off. Have to get yourself back in shape, eh?”

“Something like that,” I say off-handedly as I stand, “Well, it’s been a pleasure seeing you again. Thank you for taking me to lunch.”

“Yeah, nice hanging with you. We’ll have to do it again.”

_Maybe I’ll order in next time…_

I leave the restaurant and go to skate a little more, not so much for training, but alone for enjoyment. The air is very cold, but I like the way it feels in my chest when I breathe it in.

_Maybe I will start sleeping better now. If the nausea is gone, then that means my body is adjusting. I did feel that little longing when I thought about the peppermint schnapps in Andrei’s hot chocolate, and I do feel a craving for hard cider, but it isn’t overwhelming._

_What does feel like a weight is that I’m lonely._

_I really miss Yuuri and Maccachin._

I pause on that ice, watching quietly as a man and woman pass by the rink, holding hands. I close my eyes for a moment, and I can almost feel Yuuri’s arms wrap around me from behind and feel his warm breath on my earlobe.

“Hello, Victor, did you miss me?”

_It feels so real!_

_W-wait a minute…_

My legs go weak as he plants a kiss on the side of my neck. I turn and spot Yakov at the edge of the ice, alongside a scowling Yurio.

Which means that…

“Yuuri, what are you doing here?” I laugh, turning and hugging him tightly, burying my face in his shoulder and breathing in his delicious, familiar scent, “You should still be training in Japan! Why aren’t you?”

“Well,” he says, smirking, “Yakov said that his student was needing some company, and I figured I could train here for a little bit too…if that’s okay with my coach.”

“Is it okay? God, I’ve never been so happy. But, where is Macca?”

“Oh, he’s being completely spoiled. They’ll have him up in our room in a bit.”

“Yuuri, you didn’t have to do this. The long trip and time lost from your training…”

“Well, my coach said that I have things well in hand,” he answers, “and besides, I think I really need to be with you right now. I know you’ve had it harder than you’ve let on. So, I’ve come to make sure that you have all of the love I can give you. I’m going to train with you, Victor, and you and I are both going to win gold in our competitions!”

“Hey, you idiot! Aren’t you forgetting me?” Yurio shouts, “Ugh! You two are nauseating.”

“Good to see you too!” Yuuri and I shout back together.

_Oh, this makes things so much better. I feel a little guilty stealing him away from his own training, but…Yuuri is right that he is just what I need right now._


	5. Art of Temptation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yuuri and Victor train together and...well, more!

“It’s hard to believe you’re really here,” I tell Yuuri as we head back inside the resort and onto an elevator that takes us up to the floor my room is on, “At first, when you put your arms around me, I thought I was just imagining it.”

“Well, you’re not,” Yuuri laughs, “I am here. This place is amazing, Victor. It’s so beautiful here.”

“I find it a perfect place to both train and to relax. I’ve been here a lot because I’ve always needed to work on building up my stamina.”

“You looked a little breathless when I first saw you out there,” he teases.

“You always leave me breathless,” I agree, trapping him in the corner of the elevator and kissing him.

A chime sounds as we reach our floor, and we extricate ourselves just in time to see Andrei about to board the elevator we’re getting out of. He lets it go as we step out and into the hallway.

“Why, Yuuri Katsuki,” he says, smiling, “I have been hearing a lot about you this season.”

Yuuri looks at him questioningly.

“And you are?”

“This is Andrei Fedkin,” I answer, “You didn’t meet him in the Grand Prix Series and he didn’t qualify for the finals, but he is a fellow Russian skater.”

“You are even lovelier in person than you are on TV,” he says, taking Yuuri’s hand in his.

Yuuri tries to shake his hand, but he smiles more warmly and lifts it to his lips, making Yuuri blush, while watching my reaction closely.

“You’ll have to watch yourself around him,” I warn my blinking lover, “He’ll reach into your pockets while he’s got you looking into his eyes.”

“Oh now, that’s not very nice, Victor,” Andrei says smoothly, “but I suppose a beauty like this is such an addiction that you must be desperate to hold on to him. You’d better watch out or he’ll be stolen away from you.”

I’m careful not to show the anger that starts to flare in my chest, but before I can say anything, Yuuri answers him.

“That will never happen,” he says with perfect seriousness as he puts an arm around me, “because I only have eyes for my Vitya. No one else could do for me what Vitya has done.”

“I’m sure that’s true,” Andrei breathes, staring raptly as Yuuri and I head past him and to our room.

I can’t get the door closed between us fast enough, and I feel such a mix of anger over Andrei’s behavior and admiration at how Yuuri handled him, my heart does a furious dance in my chest while I try to figure out what to do. I’m distracted as I hear a bark and Maccachin nearly bowls me over.

“Maccachin!” I call out, instantly forgetting everything to drop to my knees and hug him, “Oh, you’ve been eating too many steamed buns, haven’t you, little glutton? Yuuri’s family spoiled you rotten, didn’t they?”

“He’s really happy to see you. I knew he would be. He kept whimpering and looking around for you.”

“Well, we’re back together now,” I laugh, burying my face in Macca’s soft coat, “I’m so glad you came.”

I hold onto Macca, but look up at Yuuri.

“Yakov called you, didn’t he?”

Yuuri doesn’t answer right away, which is, in itself, an answer.

“Eh, yeah, he did. But I already knew that you weren’t feeling well. You looked pale when we conferenced.”

“I told you, I was packing for the trip here.”

“But you’re still pretty pale.”

“It’s the elevation here, and I was exercising a little when you arrived.”

“I’m worried about you,” he says, taking my face in his hands, “I can tell you don’t feel well.”

“Honestly, no,” I agree, “but I am worlds better since you got here.”

I place my hands over his and move in for another kiss.

“And I’d be even better if you would get naked with me and shower now. What do you say?”

“I think that’s a great idea,” he answers, smiling warmly between open-mouthed kisses, “Just take it easy. We’re both adjusting to the elevation. We don’t want anyone passing out.”

“Pass out and miss your tender kisses?” I laugh, “No way.”

I turn on some music and we undress each other slowly, then we just dance slowly in the nude.

“You know, you handled Andrei like a champ,” I say appreciatively.

“I’ve learned to not let guys like that get into my head,” Yuuri says, pressing his warm, naked body up against mine, “He was obviously trying to make me feel uncomfortable and to make you feel jealous.”

“Did I look jealous?” I ask, smirking.

“You looked ready to take his head off. I’ve never seen Victor look jealous like that. Not even when Chris put his hand on my ass that time.”

“Chris was just playing, and he is a friend.”

“I don’t know if I like you letting your friends tease me like that,” Yuuri says, looking more amused than serious.

“I wasn’t worried about Chris. He’s just like that with anyone so beautiful as you, but it’s all in good fun. Andrei is different, so you should be careful of him. We’ve been competitors for many years, and I’ve watched him get into other skaters’ heads and make them unnerved. He’ll be competing at Russian nationals, and you may see him at worlds too. Just brush off anything he says and you’ll be fine.”

“It looked like you weren’t brushing him off so easily,” Yuuri notes, “I think he got a little into your head.”

“Well then, you are just what I need to get him out of my head altogether,” I answer, dipping Yuuri, then pulling him close and turning us towards the bathroom.

I don’t think there’s anything much in life that’s better than bathing with Yuuri, pressing up against his warm, soft body, sinking into his mouth that always tastes so delectable. I love squeezing his ass and letting my hands run up and down his body while we kiss. And he’s mouthy. He loves to nibble on my skin like he’d love nothing more than to eat me alive. It’s not long at all before I’m kissing my way down his sweet, lovely front, then holding onto that perfectly shaped ass while I latch onto his excited cock to suck on him. The taste and the feel of him in my mouth is so erotic, I slide a hand down to stroke myself while also pleasuring him. The sounds he makes are so sexy, and I’m quickly being undone by the fingers that he puts in my hair, entwining them and encouraging me to suck him harder.

“V-victor!” he gasps, dragging me back to his mouth for a long, deep exploration.

He groans happily as my fingers slip inside him, working slowly to prepare him. I push him up against the wall and enter him standing like that.

“Victor!” he moans loudly, holding on tightly and lifting a leg to wrap around my waist.

Yuuri’s body is like heaven, so soft, firm and warm…so very hot inside, and his body holds me tightly as my hips work, thrusting hard and fast now as we approach orgasm. There’s nothing more beautiful and perfect than that moment of complete bliss as we climax together. The sounds he makes are completely enchanting.

We embrace for a long time after, just holding and caressing each other, then bathing each other with tender, loving hands. I’m almost asleep on my feet by the time we dry off, and I am ready to just crash and sleep through dinner. But, as I head for the bed to lie down, I notice that he doesn’t surprise tackle me to go for a second round. Yuuri’s sexually hungry, so when we’re together, it’s usually several times before he’s completely sated.

_He’s going easy on me. He must still be worried about me. I wonder how I can reassure him. I don’t like making him worry._

I’m still wondering how to reassure him as we collapse on the bed and entangle our bodies.

“Victor looks sleepy and very happy.”

“I am happy,” I sigh, curling up on his white breast, “I’m sorry, though. I haven’t been sleeping well at all while we were apart.”

“Yakov told me that you were sick and having trouble sleeping.”

“Yakov worries too much. All I needed was you. I feel pretty much perfect now.”

“Try to sleep for awhile,” he says, ruffling my hair and kissing me on the top of my head, “I’ll wake you up for a walk before dinner.”

I fall into the deepest sleep I’ve managed since that night in Barcelona when we lost our anal virginity together. For a long time, it’s dreamless and restful, so very peaceful that we sleep right through dinnertime and well into the night before another nightmare finds me.

This one feels different. It has a haziness around it that obscures things a little. I find myself back in my child’s body, sitting up in my bed and listening to what sounds like the crash of breaking glass, then raised voices. I climb out of bed and creep into the hallway, which seems far longer than the one I remember from growing up. I’m almost to the end, and the shouting and crying sounds are painfully loud, when someone grabs me by the wrist and pulls me back.

“Vitya, don’t!”

I sit up in a cold sweat, my heart racing madly. Yuuri sits up with me and hugs me tightly.

“It’s okay,” he whispers, “it’s just a dream. You’re here with me. It’s fine now, okay?”

It feels a hundred times worse when it registers in my mind that I am literally aching all over for a drink.

Yuuri’s hand pets my hair and he hugs me and kisses my damp face and throat.

“This is really hard for you, isn’t it?” he asks, already seeming to know the answer, “but it’s just your body trying to get you to drink.”

_He’s right. I got used to having alcohol, not only for enjoyment, but to calm myself. This is my body playing tricks on me to seduce me back into that old habit._

_I don’t want to go there._

I hang onto Yuuri tightly, not saying anything for a long time.

“Do you want one of your pills?” he asks, “Would that help you?”

“It would make me drowsy again, but I don’t really want to sleep.”

“Well,” Yuuri says, noting the time, “We kinda slept through dinner. It’s late.”

“I don’t know if I can go back to sleep.”

“Then, let’s just cuddle and look out at the stars,” he suggests.

I settle quickly as his hands pet my hair and rub my back. We drift off again and sleep for longer this time before raised voices bring us awake from someone arguing in a room near ours. Yuuri frowns as the sound makes me shiver and press my ear up against his naked breast so I can hear his heart beat. I cover my other ear with my hand to block out the noise until it fades away.

“That sounded pretty bad,” he comments, stroking my hair.

“It sounds like Andrei may be needing another new coach soon,” I chuckle, trying to lighten the mood.

“I thought that sounded like him, though I don’t know him well.”

“You’re happier not knowing him,” I sigh.

“He really gets on your nerves, doesn’t he?”

I give Yuuri a little grin.

“He wants to steal my _solnyshko_.”

“Well, he can’t, because I see right through that guy,” Yuuri says firmly, “He’s no good for anyone. I hope his coach does leave him, if that’s how he treats the people who support him.”

“You’re pretty wise,” I say, shifting to lie on top of him with my legs spread wantonly, “Now, what say we bring a little more love to the world to drown out that ugly noise he makes?”

“If you want to,” Yuuri laughs, blushing.

“I want to,” I tell him as he dampens his fingers and takes his time preparing me.

Yuuri’s cock is thick and leaking, so I steal some of the liquid from the oozing slit and wet the whole head so it slides inside me more easily. I sit astride him, taking him inside in slow movements, until we’re fully joined. Yuuri’s hands hold onto my hips and he looks devilishly hungry as he gazes up at me.

“Victor’s body is so very hot inside,” he sighs, “I feel like I’ll melt.”

I try to hold back a little, to keep everything slow and gentle, so that it will last a long time, but there is no holding Yuuri back. He bucks underneath me, thrusting in deep, groaning and thrashing, gasping out my name in near desperation. In the midst of our writhing, he flips me onto my belly and enters me again from behind, holding my ass in the air and fucking it so hard and fast, I’m sure I’ll break. I don’t know what holds me together as we climax and pleasure rips through me from end to end, making me collapse onto the bed, panting and shaking all over. Yuuri drops onto my sweating back, panting hard and planting loving kisses on the back of my neck.

“Victor’s bottom is so perfect that I can’t get enough,” Yuuri chuckles, massaging it, then caressing my shoulders and back.

“We’re at a higher elevation,” I tease him, “You’d better be careful or you’ll make me faint, you get my heart beating so hard.”

“Really?” he asks, looking alarmed for a moment, “Are you okay? Was I too rough?”

“No, I was kidding!” I laugh, “I was only teasing you. I’m fine. I feel…very much loved. But, I think I do need to rest awhile first if you want to do it again.”

“I don’t need to right now,” he assures me, “I just want Victor to know how much I love him. There’s never been anyone like him in all of my life. Victor is _everything_ to me.”

I nudge him onto his back and settle on his chest again.

“Yuuri is everything to me also.”

I sleep much better for the rest of the night, although I wake up with a tremendous appetite. I think I eat pretty much everything in sight when we go downstairs for breakfast, and I barely notice Andrei looking at the two of us as we talk and laugh and eat together.

Yakov and Yurio join us when we are about halfway through our meal, and I take a moment to hug my coach gratefully.

“Thank you so much, Yakov,” I say happily, “Yuuri is the best medicine.”

“Don’t make me throw up my food,” Yurio complains, rolling his eyes.

But I don’t miss the little glimmer of relief in his eyes and Yakov’s.

I feel so much stronger as I head out onto the ice with Yuuri beside me. We warm up slowly together, then exit the ice to fully stretch. I watch as he runs through his programs, and I pick out a few things for him to work on. But mostly, he looks so good that I wonder if I can get my body in shape fast enough to compete with him in a few months. Yurio was right that my body was in shameful condition because of the time I took off and the fact that I slacked off so much. It’ll take time for me to peak again, but with Yuuri alongside me, I feel up to the task.

After Yuuri moves off to practice what I told him to, I run through my own programs and Yakov complains about everything, like he always does. Seriously, I wonder if that man will ever be satisfied or if he’ll just always have something to complain about. I work at several of the things he picks at, but I’m still adjusting to the elevation, so I have to take it a little easy.

I pause for a few minutes to rest and watch Yuuri skating. He’s working on his jumps, and they are spot on today. There are no hesitations and no imperfections. I feel such pride in seeing him do what I always knew he could. He’s such a beautiful skater.

He turns into another jump, but as he goes into the air, a dark flash moves into his path, nearly colliding with him as he lands awkwardly and crashes down onto the ice.

“Yuuri!”

I skate out to him and pull him to his feet, glaring at Andrei as he skates back to us, wearing a stern expression.

“You should watch where you’re going, beautiful,” he warns Yuuri, “You wouldn’t want to get an injury and miss out on the competitions.”

“Jerk!” Yuuri spits as Andrei skates away again, “He did that on purpose!”

“Of course he did,” I agree, moving closer and looking him over.

He’s shaking a little, but I don’t see any injuries.

“Are you all right, Yuuri?”

“I’m fine,” he says in a disgusted tone, “but I’d love to punch that asshole. He’s awful. No wonder no one wants to work with him for very long.”

“Let it go,” I tell him, wrapping my arms around Yuuri, well aware that Andrei is watching us closely, “He’s just making a fool of himself. He doesn’t matter.”

“And if he tries that shit again,” Yurio chimes in, “I’ll go and kick the crap out of him, since Victor is too much of a pussy to do it.”

“Victor’s too much of a gentleman,” Yuuri says, nuzzling my cheek.

“Ugh,” Yurio huffs, skating away quickly, “Stop it. You both should concentrate more on your skating or you’re going to be no competition at all!”


	6. The Cold, Dry Facts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Something unexpected happens when Victor's counselor arrives to speak to him about his recovery options.

It’s the next day, late morning, while Yuuri and I are training that my phone rings while I’m taking a break and I see that the call is coming in from the Saint Petersburg recovery facility I visited. Yuuri is busily practicing his spins and footwork and Yakov is busy with Yurio, so I step away to a more quiet area to take the call.

“Hello?”

“Good morning,” says a male voice I remember instantly, “this is Stefan from the recovery center. I’m calling for Victor.”

“This is Victor. Is this about the results from my intake?”

“Yes, it is,” he responds, “I’d like to set up an interview so that I can review all of the information that we’ve gathered and you and I can talk about your treatment options. Is there a time that would be convenient for you to come in?”

“Actually, I am training at our high elevation facility for a competition that will take place in a little over a week and a half. It would be difficult for me to travel back and forth and still see to my training.”

“Ah,” he says, pausing, “I understand you have a very busy schedule during the skating season. And while I would like to see you in treatment sooner, we can try to work around your schedule. Are you saying you would like to wait until the current season ends in a few months?”

_It’s the perfect excuse, and I badly want to take him up on it, but…_

I look over at Yuuri, who is running through his free skate, then at Yakov, who I nearly catch glancing at me.

_It’s not just for me, but for all of us that I need to not put this off…as much as I don’t want to do it._

“Actually, Stefan, I am wondering if you might be able to come to me. I know that asking you to drive several hours out here is a bother for you, but I would be willing to put you and anyone you would like to accompany you, up in a suite, here at the mountain resort for the weekend so that we can discuss my options. I would like to request that my coach and my fiancé be present for any meetings. Would that be acceptable to you?”

He is quiet for a moment, and because I can’t see him through the phone line, I don’t know if it’s because he’s considering or just surprised.

“That is a very generous offer, Victor,” he says in a pleased tone, “And it also says something about your commitment to your recovery that you want to discuss this now, as opposed to later. Since you are so willing to go to the effort and cost of hosting me, I will come to speak to you at the resort. Any family or friends who you want to have there are, of course, welcome. We will be discussing your private information in detail, so just be aware that is the case. I will need to finish up a few things here in Saint Petersburg, but if you will forward me the directions, my partner and I can be there by late afternoon, early evening today.”

“That would be great,” I tell him, although I don’t know how great I really think it is, “I will e-mail you that information from the resort.”

“Thank you. I am looking forward to meeting with you, Victor. I very much want to do what I can to help you.”

“Thank you, Stefan,” I say cordially, “I will see you later today.”

I end the call and walk back to the rink, where I spot Yuuri standing on the ice with Andrei in front of him. Yuuri’s expression looks piqued and his body is slightly stiffened. I take the blade covers off of my skates and move to join them.

“Have you finished with your practice?” I ask, earning a relieved look from my lover.

“Yeah, I was…”

“I was just telling Yuuri how much better he looks training _under you_. He is just oozing with sexuality.”

“What a lovely sentiment,” I say off-handedly, “But, you must excuse us. We are about to have lunch.”

“I was about to go in, myself,” Andrei chuckles, “We should have lunch together so I can get to know Yuuri better. We will probably be competing against each other soon.”

“We’ll have to make it another time,” I tell him, “Yuuri and I have some things to discuss regarding the Japanese nationals, so we will be eating in.”

I take Yuuri’s hand and we skate away, while Yurio changes his direction to get in Andrei’s way if he should try to follow. We get back to our room and Yuuri makes a sound of disgust as he drops onto the sofa.

“Man, I really don’t like that guy. He pretends to be friendly, but the things he says make it more than clear he’s just looking to cause trouble. But it’s impossible to just try to stay away from him when he’s training here too.”

“I know he gets on your nerves. He gets on mine too. I just try not to pay attention to him too much. And since we’re both here, we can look out for each other.”

“Right,” Yuuri agrees, “There is that.”

He gives a little sigh and settles somewhat.

“But enough about him. What are we doing for lunch? You said you want to order in?”

“We can just call room service,” I suggest, “It won’t take long to arrive, and while we’re waiting, I need to talk to you about something.”

He gives me a look that says he suspects he knows what I will say.

“It’s about the phone call you took while I was on the ice, isn’t it?” he asks, an edge of worry in his voice.

“That’s right,” I confirm, “The call was from Stefan at the Saint Petersburg recovery center. He was my intake counselor, and he said that he has some information to go over with me…well, with us and probably Yakov.”

“You want me to go with you?” Yuuri asks uncertainly, “I mean, I want to, of course. But, are you sure you want me there?”

“Why would I not want you there?” I ask in reply, “We are going to be living together, and as soon as you win gold, we’ll be getting married. The person who will be sharing my home and my life should be there when I decide what to do about my treatment.”

Yuuri nods, but I can see his mind is still working.

“And you’re inviting Yakov to come too?” he asks, “Not that I don’t think you should. He’s been your coach for a long time, and you’re going to have to work your treatment around your skating schedule. It’s just that he’s pretty loud and grouchy.”

“He is,” I agree, “but over the years, Yakov has been more than a coach to me.”

“Really?” Yuuri muses, “We’ve never really talked about that, have we?”

“We haven’t,” I agree, “but I think now is a good time for you to know. Yakov took over as my coach when I was eight years old. I had trained with several other coaches, but they all said that I was not trainable, because I was defiant and refused to listen to their advice.”

“Erm, doesn’t Yakov yell about you doing that to him too?” Yuuri asks, smirking.

“He does,” I laugh, “but Yakov said I was a prodigy, and that he could train me, even though the other coaches had given up on me. He convinced my parents to send me to live at the Saint Petersburg dormitory with Yakov as my guardian and coach. It was Yakov who was most responsible for raising me and training me as a skater.”

“He was your guardian too?”

“Yes. It worked out better for everyone, because my parents lived far from the facility, and they couldn’t be there quickly if an emergency happened. Yakov has always been there for me.”

“I guess you’re right about that,” Yuuri says, his voice betraying a bit of guilt, “You were lucky he was there for you when I almost messed up everything…”

“Don’t think about that,” I urge him, laying a hand on his, “You’re here now. And, if you think about it, part of the reason I am getting the treatment I need is because of what I did to myself under stress then. It wasn’t you, it was me. And if it hadn’t happened then, it would have happened eventually. I admit I am worried about what the treatment will be, but I don’t question that it’s what I need. I want us to be happy together, and that just can’t be until I confront this.”

“I’m glad you see that,” he says, trembling slightly as he hugs me, “I’m going to do everything I can to support you. You know that.”

“I do.”

We continue to talk over lunch, then we head to the less busy indoor rink for our afternoon skating. We’re happy to note that Andrei is likely too busy with his own training on the outdoor rink to trifle with us, so we relax and enjoy ourselves, even finishing with our usual ice dance. As we finish that, we receive word that Stefan has arrived, so we move on to the lobby to greet him. He arrives alongside a quiet blonde man who looks to be about his age.

“This is my partner, Filip,” Stefan introduces him.

“Nice to meet you,” I answer, offering a hand as the blonde man’s eyes and smile widen and warm.

“It’s an honor to meet you, Mr. Nikiforov,” he says in a delighted tone, “And Yuuri Katsuki. It’s been amazing watching you this season.”

“Thanks,” Yuuri says cheerfully.

“It’s getting on towards dinnertime,” I say, looking at my watch, “Why don’t we have your bags taken up and head to the restaurant? I’ll text Yakov and Yurio to come also…although, I would prefer not to tell Yurio about my treatment. I would rather we just introduced you as a prospective staff psychologist…if that’s all right.”

“That will be fine,” he assures me, “I understand your desire for discretion.

A short time later, we sit down to dinner in the restaurant. We are seated in a semi-private corner, but unfortunately, that doesn’t stop Andrei from showing up to make more trouble.

“Ah, Yuuri, Victor, you made some new friends?” he asks.

“We are actually here on business,” Stefan says, accepting his hand, “I’m Stefan and this is Filip.”

“Nice to meet you.”

We exchange small talk as our drinks are served, then Andrei heads off to join his unhappy looking coach for their meal.

“Why doesn’t that guy just take the hint that we don’t want to talk to him?” Yuuri groans, sipping at his hot chocolate.

“He’s just that determined,” I complain, taking a swallow of mine.

I instantly spit it out again as I feel and taste alcohol beneath the chocolate.

“Victor?” Yuuri gasps, “what’s wrong?”

By then, everyone is staring and my mind is beginning to work. I fight the compelling hunger I feel just getting that little taste, and it’s while that’s attacking my mind that I also realize.

_Andrei was carrying a drink when he was over here. It would have been easy, wouldn’t it? He could definitely have switched my cup with his. They look the same._

I spot him out of the corner of my eye, and I don’t miss the self-satisfied smirk on his lips. Without explaining a thing, I get up and carry the cup of spiked chocolate as I cross the room to where Andrei sits with his coach. I throw the warm liquid in his face as everyone watching makes sounds of surprise.

“What’s wrong with you? Have you gone crazy?” he demands, standing and wiping his face with a napkin as his coach tries to hide his slightly amused reaction, “Why did you do that?”

“You know exactly why I did it,” I challenge him, “You put alcohol in this!”

“What? What the hell are you talking about?” he yells so the whole restaurant can hear, “You’ve lost your mind completely, now haven’t you? I didn’t do anything to your drink. It’s not my fault they screwed up on your order!”

“I don’t think they did make a mistake. It’s exactly the kind of thing you would do, because you’re a miserable excuse for a human being, who isn’t happy unless he’s hurting someone else!”

“You’re insane!” he cries, slamming his hands down onto the table.

As he does, he knocks his coach’s wine glass over. It falls over the edge of the table, and shatters on the floor. As it breaks. Something strange and frightening happens. It’s almost like having a veil placed over my eyes. In that moment when I hear the breaking glass, the nightmare that I’ve had more than a few times lately, comes back to me. I find myself, no longer standing in the resort restaurant, but in a little home in a quiet neighborhood near Moscow.

_It’s late at night, and the sound of breaking glass and my mother’s scared cry bring me awake. I climb out of bed and look down at myself, finding I am once again a child, and I am in the house that I grew up in until being placed with Yakov. I run out of my bedroom and hurry down the hallway. My brother and sister are there in the doorways of their rooms, gazing out with scared eyes. They’re both older than me, and they’re too scared to move. I hear my father yelling and my mother sobs as a hard slap sounds. My sister grabs my hand as I try to run past her._

_“Vitya, don’t!” she warns me._

_All I can think of is that he is hurting her. I can’t let that happen. I run down the hallway and throw myself between my mother and father, not noticing that my bare feet are being cut by the glass._

_“Stop it!” I scream, “Stop hitting!”_

_It’s then that I see that my father’s eyes look crazed and that he’s staggering as he closes in on me._

_“Vitya!” my mother cries, grabbing me and pulling me up against her, “Vitya, no!”_

_She shields me as my father takes the belt from his pants and swings it at us. It stings my mother’s arm as she protects me._

_“You should be in bed, you little brat!” my father yells, “Stop covering him up like that! He’s out of bed and in the way. He deserves a good beating. Let go of him.”_

_“No! You need to stop.”_

_I shiver, staring at my father’s enraged eyes as he strikes at her again, and I move my hand so that I can grab the belt as it hits her._

_“VITYA!” she screams as my father yanks on the belt, pulling me away from her and making me fall into the broken glass._

_Before I can move, the belt strikes my curled body. It rises and falls, stinging my cringing body as my mother cries and tries to get in the way, only to have him shove her aside._

_“I told you to go to bed. If you don’t do what you told, there are consequences,” he yells, his words slurring as he speaks, “Your brother and sister understand, but you think you’re different. You think the rules don’t apply to you. It’s about time you understand your place, you little bastard!”_

_“Stop! He’s only a little boy. He doesn’t know what he’s doing is wrong. Stop it! Stop it! STOP!”_

Gradually, my vision fades and the sounds and sensations die away. I’m left in a fog, unable to move or speak…just sort of suspended and listening to the heavy throbs of my own heartbeat.

_Why is this happening?_

_I thought that the nightmares were only there because my body was aching to be fed alcohol. I was told that withdrawal could cause terrible nightmares, but this just goes beyond anything I expected._

_No, I felt something all too real here._

_Something…_

“Victor?”

Yuuri’s scared voice cuts through the fog around me, and I feel a jolt as I find myself lying in bed in our suite, with Yuuri and Stefan sitting by the bed and Yakov standing, leaned against the door, almost like he’s guarding it. It causes me another jolt to see that hours have passed and it’s late at night. I look from Yuuri’s spooked face, to Stefan’s more sympathetic one, then to Yakov’s.

I can’t read my coach’s expression.

“What happened?” I ask, “The last thing I remember was that bastard switched my drink with his, and I went to confront him.”

“Y-you don’t recall anything that happened after that?” Stefan asks softly, “Nothing at all?”

“It’s like I was in a fog,” I explain, “It was the sound of the glass breaking that made it happen. I went into that fog and I…saw something.”

Yuuri exchanges glances with Stefan and nods.

“You got this awful look on your face and went completely white. Then, you just collapsed. The manager called for the resort’s doctor, and he said that you were okay…just…stunned or something. They wanted to call an ambulance, but Yakov said that something like this has happened to you before. He carried you up here and we’ve been with you ever since. You haven’t moved except to breathe the whole time. Victor, what happened to you? What did you see?”

I ignore Yuuri’s question and I focus on Yakov, who is beginning to look like he’s bracing himself. And when I ask him the next question, I know for a fact that he knows…that he has always known.

“Yakov, I want you to tell me the truth. When my parents gave you guardianship of me all of those years ago, was it really because I was a prodigy? Or…was it because…my drunk father nearly beat me to death?”


	7. Broken Path

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yakov finally explains what happened to Victor as a child.

I know before Yakov says a word that the nightmare I have been repeatedly having, isn’t a nightmare at all. It is a memory, but for some reason, I haven’t been able to realize that until now. I know now that what I was seeing really happened a long time ago. And I know by looking at Yakov as he moves closer and sits down next to me, alongside Yuuri and Stefan, that he isn’t very happy that I have remembered it.

“So what I saw is what happened?” I ask him.

_I’m almost sorry to know it._

_I don’t want this to be true._

_I’ve never felt close to my family like Yuuri feels close to his, but I always thought we were pretty normal. I don’t remember being beaten. I don’t remember being afraid._

_I blocked all of this out?_

“Can you tell us exactly what you saw?” Stefan asks, “I know it is distressing for you, but until we know, it will be hard for Yakov to answer your questions.”

“Ah, that’s right,” I agreed, putting a hand over my face for a moment, “I’m sorry. It’s just that I’ve been thinking that this nightmare was just a symptom of my body trying to seduce me into drinking again. Each time I dreamt it, I woke feeling shaky, and I ached all over to drink to stop feeling so unsettled. I didn’t, but I have to be honest and say that’s what I felt.”

“Such things can be confusing,” Stefan acknowledges, “It seems that you have been hiding this knowledge from yourself for a long time. In clinical terms, it is something we see often in children who encounter physical abuse by a parent, when they are very young. Children are resilient, partly because the lines between what is real and what is imagined are not so distinctly drawn. A young child, especially one with a gift like yours for creativity, would definitely be able to submerge something like this for self-protection.”

“It’s true that I may have submerged it, but I wasn’t the only one who knew. My mother and father knew. My brother and sister knew…and Yakov, you knew also, didn’t you?”

I try not to use an accusing tone, but I’m angry and it’s hard to hold that back. Yakov frowns and rubs his chin, thinking carefully before he answers me.

“I knew,” he admits quietly, “I know that will make you angry, Vitya, but at the time, it was the only decision I could make.”

My teeth clench with the effort of holding back from yelling at him. As much as I think he deserves it, I don’t have the whole story yet. I know I haven’t remembered everything. There could be more to this.

“Why?” I ask in a shaking voice.

I feel Yuuri’s hand squeeze mine.

“I haven’t known Yakov for very long,” he comments, “but I know already how much he cares about you, Victor. I wouldn’t be here right now to support you, if not for him. If he didn’t tell you, then it must be for a good reason.”

“Fine, then, if there was a good reason, tell me. Why would you keep something like this from me for twenty years?”

“I’ve already told you that I felt I had no choice. But for you to understand why, then you need to know how and why I became a part of this.”

“I’m listening.”

“First of all, to answer part of your question from before, it is true that you were a prodigy. We crossed paths during your early training, when you skated in an exhibition I also attended. After your performance, I spotted you backstage with your coach, who was yelling at you for pushing yourself beyond what was necessary for the performance, taking chances with your body when there was no competition and no need for the risk. You looked relieved when he stopped shouting and you smiled at me when I complimented your skating.

_“Your performance was stunning, but you should listen to your coach and save your more risky moves for competition. You don’t want to be injured and miss out when it’s time to compete.”_

“I went to place a hand on your shoulder and you made a sound like it hurt and pulled away.”

“That was another memory that came back to me,” I interject, “but I didn’t know that was real either. That really happened?”

“It happened,” Yakov confirms, “Your mother was there and she looked nervous and stepped in to explain.”

_“Oh, he fell on that shoulder during his warm up. It’s sore, but he’ll be all right.”_

_“I see. So, it seems your recklessness has already caused you to be injured. You’re lucky it wasn’t worse. Pay attention to your coach from now on.”_

“That incident left me uncomfortable, and I watched you at other performances, observing the way you moved, your expressions, the precise execution in most of your performances. The times that you faltered, I noticed that something was different about you. Each time your performance was off, it was not that you missed jumps or that you were sloppy. It was your lackluster expression and a stiffness in the way you moved. It was then that I started to understand what it must be. All people who work with children are encouraged to learn the signs of abuse in children. Sometimes, we are the only protection they have when it is a parent or some other person close to them who is hurting them. When I realized the danger you were in, I confronted your mother privately at a competition in which it was clear that you had suffered some abuse recently. She tried to deny it, but when I had you remove your top and we all were looking at the obvious evidence, your coach at the time quit on the spot, and he threatened to call the police. Your mother convinced him not to, but you were again without a coach, and your mother confessed to me that even though she constantly said that the reason you switched coaches frequently was because of your temperament, it was really because the other coaches didn’t want to deal with an abused child…or as they called it, a troubled child.”

“That’s insane!” Yuuri whispers in a shocked voice, “They _knew_ that Victor was being abused and they didn’t do anything at all to help him? How could they…?”

“Often,” Stefan says sadly, “people don’t want to get involved. Sometimes, they just don’t know what to do, so they step back and stay out of it, even though it means the abuse just goes on.”

“I couldn’t do that,” Yakov says in a disgusted voice, “so I cornered your mother and she told me everything.

_“My husband is an alcoholic. It’s not every night, but often he comes home after drinking with his friends. The other children and I know how not to upset him, but Vitya is too young and he is very headstrong. If he thinks my husband will hurt me, he won’t listen to anyone. He tries to get in the way, and…”_

_“This can’t go on. The boy is not going to reach his tenth year if something isn’t done.”_

_“What do you expect me to do? I can’t afford to leave him! If I try, we will all starve. And Vitya will be lost anyway. You see what he is. You know he has great talent and he will do well. Yakov, you train the best and Vitya is the best of his age out there.”_

_“I see that, but…”_

_“Please take him. Board him at the dormitory in Saint Petersburg. He will be safe and well taken care of.”_

_“And what about you and the other children?”_

_“We will be all right. We know what to do. It is only Vitya who is in real danger.”_

“Even though I knew that she was wrong about that…I knew that there was still danger to them, I knew there was nothing that I could do. She was right that getting her husband arrested or her leaving him, because of their circumstances was only going to end in disaster for all of them. I made a choice to pressure her to turn you over to me entirely. We set up a meeting and convinced your father that this was the procedure for assisting a young prodigy. We made it about your temperament so that he wouldn’t suspect.”

“But something tells me that the trouble didn’t end there,” Yuuri says in a shaky voice, “What happened?”

“What happened is that the night before I was to take Vitya with me to Saint Petersburg, his father came home drunk and Vitya tried to stop him from hurting his mother.”

“That is when I heard the glass breaking and heard him hitting her, and her crying,” I recall, “I ran into the kitchen and there was broken glass on the floor, and she was sitting in it and crying. I got between them and she tried to protect me from him. But he pulled me away from her and started hitting me with his belt, then he kicked me and hit me with his hands until…”

“You passed out and your father stumbled off to bed. Your mother called me, and we took you to the hospital. Your mother said that you had sneaked out to go and skate on the frozen pond near your house, and that you were beaten up by local street punks. I let the lie pass, but I told her you were never going back to that home again. He could have killed you that night.”

“But…you left her and my…?”

“I couldn’t help that,” Yakov insists, “If I had accused him then, your mother would have been put in a position where she would have protected him by lying for him. To save the rest of your family from the loss of his earnings, we kept quiet about the truth and I took over guardianship of you. I had planned to explain to you, but when you woke after surgery, you didn’t remember anything, not even being in the hospital. You blocked all of it out and you only believed that you came to the Saint Petersburg facility to train because you were gifted and I agreed to help you. Telling you different wouldn’t have changed anything. There was nothing that you or I could do for them.”

“That may be true,” I answer him in low, furious voice, “but even though I couldn’t do anything then, I can do something now!”

I’m on my feet in a moment, but feel Yakov and Yuuri’s hands on my arms.

“Vitya, wait!” Yakov shouts.

“Victor, what are you going to do?”

“What do you think I’m going to do?” I ask angrily, “I am going to get her out of there! My brother and sister are on their own. They are safe, but she is still with that monster!”

Stefan steps in front of me and his kind blue eyes look up into mine.

“Take a couple of breaths and think before you move,” he advises me, “Think carefully, because if you intend to go and convince your mother to leave your father, then there are some things you need to understand, going in.”

“I think you should listen to him,” Yuuri agrees, “I wasn’t there. I didn’t see it all happen, but I feel like it won’t be as simple as asking her to come with you.”

“Yuuri is right,” Stefan says in a calm, still quiet voice, “Remember that even though your siblings no longer make her feel it’s necessary to stay with your father for their livelihood, there is something that is keeping her in that situation. It’s possible that she will resist going with you. If you will let me go with you, I can advise you about how to have the best chance of learning her situation and then convincing her to go with you. Will you do that, Victor? Will you trust me?”

I feel almost painful urgency, and I want to push past him, but it’s looking at Yuuri that keeps me still. He obviously has confidence in Stefan. Yakov, too, looks approving.

“If you must go, then you should listen to your counselor and do what he says.”

“But, are you sure that this is what you want to do, Victor?” Yuuri asks, “I’ll go with you too, and I’ll help in any way I can. I just want to know you’re sure about what you’re doing.”

“I’m sure. Twenty years ago, my mother did what she needed to do to protect me from that animal. Now, I am not a little child and I am not helpless. I am going back to her, and I am going to protect her!”

Due to the late hour, I can’t get a flight for us until the next day. Stefan and Yakov go back to their rooms, leaving me alone with Yuuri. I watch the others leave, then I start to turn back, only to feel his arms come around me and hug me painfully tightly.

“Yuuri!”

“I’m so sorry about what happened to you before!” he sobs.

He sounds absolutely broken-hearted.

“It was a long time ago,” I assure him, “and I didn’t remember it for a long time after it all happened. I’m fine, Yuuri. I just want to find my mother and get her out of that situation. If only I’d remembered sooner or…or if Yakov had told me…”

“I’m sure he wanted to tell you, but how do you tell someone you love so much something like that? He knew the truth would really hurt you.”

“It’s no less hurtful to find out this way, but I won’t be angry at Yakov. He did take care of me, and when I remembered, he agreed to help me too. He won’t be able to come along with us, but he has promised that he will help protect my mother if we bring her back to Saint Petersburg.”

“So, we’re really going there,” Yuuri says anxiously, “It’ll be the first time I’ve met her.”

_He’s right about that._

_I wonder…_

“Yuuri, maybe you should stay here and let Stefan accompany me to my parents’ home.”

“What?” he asks, looking alarmed, “Victor…”

“You have already lost training time, coming here to support me. You will lose more time if you go with me for this.”

“That doesn’t matter!” he insists, clenching his fists, “Victor, I’ll be all right in the competitions. I’m in great shape and I feel ready now. I want to be there for you. When I was at my lowest? That’s when you were there for me. You came all of the way to Hasetsu, because you knew what I needed and what you needed, was for us to be together. I know right now that we still need to be together. This time, I need to support you. I’m going to do that by going with you and helping you in any way I can!”

Moments when Yuuri is like this, he just melts me. I hug him and kiss him, forgetting and speaking in Russian as I tell him how much I love him. But it doesn’t matter how I say the words. Yuuri understands and he hugs and kisses me back. For a long time, we stay like that, until we start to yawn and realize again how late it’s gotten.

We head into the bedroom and undress. Yuuri leaves his pajamas off and cuddles up to me naked. But even though we’re naked, there isn’t anything sexual in what we do next…just comforting words and hands, gentle touches and whispers that help us to wind down after everything and fall asleep.

_I wake hours later and find myself in my child form, sleeping in the bed in my Saint Petersburg home, but not with Yuuri._

_I am alone._

_I hear the sound of breaking glass and climb out of the bed, shivering at the cold and at the sound of raised voices. But the voices are strange…not like my mother and father. I leave the bedroom and head out into the hallway, listening._

_I hear Yuuri crying._

_Someone is yelling at him, and I hear the sickening thud of a hard impact._

_I can’t get down the hallway fast enough. My child’s legs are too small and weak and I feel like I’m running in slow motion. Yuuri’s cries of pain and sobs continue as I struggle to reach him. I round the corner and run into the kitchen, sliding to a stop and staring in horror at the monster I see looking back at me._

_It feels like a thousand knives stabbing into me from all directions as I realize that the one hurting Yuuri…is me!_

I wake up screaming his name and instantly Yuuri’s arms are around me. I can’t talk at first. My throat feels knotted and it’s hard to just breathe.

“You want me to call Stefan?” he asks in a quivering voice, like I’ve scared him to death, screaming his name like that.

 _No_ , I manage in the barest whisper.

_What the hell was that?_

_I’ve never, ever been violent with Yuuri. I did grab him when we argued about him wanting me to step down as his coach, but I didn’t hurt him, even then. So, why did I dream something like that?_

_Is it just stress?_

_Is it fear?_

I think back to something that I remember from my intake meeting with Stefan. At one point, he asked me if there was alcohol abuse in my family. He told me that he was asking because sometimes alcoholism spreads within families, spurred on by younger family members witnessing the behaviors and emulating them.

I think of my own behavior.

I didn’t recall that my father got drunk or that he beat me, but when I became overexcited or had heavy emotions, I did turn to alcohol readily.

_I wonder if part of the reason it came naturally was that some part of me remembered and I latched onto it because of that. I was also around peers who drank a lot. I never took it seriously, and I never felt out of control. But all of that time, I was walking a path that was going to destroy my whole life._

_Because…if I do not get through this now, I could get drunk and become violent. I could become the nightmare I just had, the monster who will hurt Yuuri and make him cry like that. Maybe that’s what this dream is warning me about._

“Are you okay?” Yuuri asks worriedly.

“Not really,” I admit, resting my head on his shoulder, “but I give you my word, Yuuri…I will be.”


	8. Going Home to the Heart

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Victor returns to his childhood home.

I wish I could say that being held in my lover’s arms brings me peace. Most of the time, that would be true, but there is no peace as I sweat out the hours until morning. And it isn’t just the knowledge that every minute this takes is another minute someone I love is suffering torment, while I rest so comfortably in loving arms. It’s that my body is responding to the stress with a powerful craving for the very thing that has torn my own family apart.

If you could know the agony…the deep down horror of feeling pulled towards the very thing that will destroy you. If you could know the terrible ache inside for the demon liquid that promises to numb the pain, but only increases it. That even knowing the truth gives no strength to my resistance and even as Yuuri holds my shaky body and comforts me, I want to drown in that wicked concoction if only it will make things quiet in my reeling head and tortured heart. I both want a drink and hate myself for wanting it. I’m so engulfed in this feeling of complete disarray that it takes me awhile to realize that Yuuri isn’t just holding me, he is singing very softly to comfort me. And very oddly, the song that he is singing is the same one that I heard him sing the night he broke my heart by saying that he wanted me to step down as his coach, effectively meaning that our love, too, would be lost.

It’s strange how different that tune feels, laid over the raging torrent of everything inside me. I’m not saying that the words, themselves aren’t sad. They definitely are. But as I said to Yuuri when I asked him to sing it to me again, there is also hope in the midst of the sadness. And that hope is what keeps me hanging onto my threadbare nerves as the clock ticks and the hours pass. I can’t close my eyes again because every time I do, I remember more and more of the pain and fear that was more of my early childhood that I would ever want to believe. Even now, at twenty-seven, I want to bury myself in the fantasy I created of everything in my life being normal. I so desperately wish that could be my reality again. It brings tears off and on as the hours pass, and each time, Yuuri brushes them away and soothes my tattered heart with gentle touches and soft sounds. Morning comes and neither one of us has slept at all, but we get up and dress, knowing that there is something important that we have to do. Rest will only come when this is done.

I feel sort of guilty watching as Stefan leaves his lover behind. I try to apologize, but neither of them will let me.

“Put it out of your mind,” Stefan tells me.

“I will be very comfortable spending the rest of the weekend in such a beautiful place,” Filip assures me, “I am grateful to you for inviting us.”

“I will see you back in Saint Petersburg,” Stefan says, leaving Filip with a hug and a long kiss.

“I’ll keep the cider warm.”

It just seems like nothing can move quickly enough after that. I usually do a lot of the talking and taking care of things for Yuuri and myself, but today, just keeping myself upright and holding my temper as we negotiate a busy morning at the airport, with a flight change that stalls things for an extra hour, Yuuri trying desperately to get me to eat something, getting our bags checked and finding the new departure gate is about as much as I can do. I’m exhausted by the time the flight takes off. I start to doze off, but jump awake because I don’t want to have one of those nightmares and wake up screaming like I did before.

“You want one of your pills, Victor?” Yuuri offers, “Maybe it could help. You could get some sleep.”

“No,” I yawn, “I don’t think so.”

“But…”

“Yuuri, not now!” I say, almost snapping at him.

“Sorry,” he apologizes.

“No, it’s my fault,” I answer sleepily, “I would take one, but…after…”

Yuuri and I notice that Stefan is looking at the two of us questioningly.

“I don’t mean to butt in, but do you mind if I ask what happened?”

“I suppose not,” I sigh, “I was sleeping with Yuuri and had another nightmare. It was the one I had before, but instead of it being with my mother and father, I dreamed that I woke up a child again and heard arguing…fighting. But, this time, when I went to see, I found it was me who was beating Yuuri. I woke up calling out for him, and I just didn’t want to have that happen here.”

“That’s understandable,” Stefan says sympathetically, “but you really do need the sleep. Yuuri and I are here. If you seem uncomfortable, we will wake you before it escalates.”

“Are you sure that you can?”

Stefan gives me a little nod.

“There was a time when I was struggling, myself, and I found the sedative helpful in calming me enough to sleep comfortably. I know that you don’t want to rely on them too much, but you are pushing yourself very hard at a time when you are also in withdrawal. It’s okay for you to need a little help with that from time to time. Yuuri and I will watch over you. I promise.”

“Me too,” Yuuri agrees.

I have to fight with myself a little, but I manage to swallow one of the pills and rest my head on Yuuri’s shoulder. I’m so tired that as soon as the sedative kicks in, I go out like a light and don’t move again until the plane is preparing to land. Yuuri, too, it seems, was able to get some rest with Stefan watching over both of us.

I feel kind of bad now for being so harsh in my judgment of him on the day of my intake. It seems like when he says he is with someone, he doesn’t take it lightly. I really appreciate that right now.

The plane lands, and we quickly collect our things and summon a ride out of Moscow. It’s been a long time since I visited my parents’ home. I’d be feeling anxious if the sedative wasn’t still dulling my senses a little. But it’s wearing off gradually, and by the time we make the final turn onto the quiet street where I used to live, my heart is skipping and racing in my chest. I’m not sure how I’ll begin, but I know beyond a doubt that I have to walk through that door and do something. Yuuri and Stefan wait in the standing car, while I get out and head for the front door.

I’m glad to see no car in the driveway. I know Mom’s car broke down awhile back, and they decided not to replace it, so she’s probably inside. My heart pounds harder as I walk up to the porch and stop, feeling oddly like I don’t belong there, even in the house I used to live in. I take a steadying breath and ring the doorbell. At first, no one answers, so I text her to let he know it’s me.

I didn’t text before coming, because I didn’t know what to say. I hardly know what I’ll say now. But there isn’t a lot of time to think, because I hear approaching footsteps, then the door opens and my mother’s tired looking face peeks out at me cautiously.

“Vitya?”

I feel a shock inside as I look at her.

My mother was always a beautiful woman, who took care of herself. I get my silvery hair color from her, and I’m tall like she is. Her eyes are a bright, beautiful blue and used to sparkle. And even though she dressed simply, she always looked very pretty. When I look at her now, it’s like the spark has gone out of her. Her eyes and skin look dull and pale, and she isn’t dressed yet, although it’s past mid-day. Her eyes look red and weary, and she moves a little gingerly.

“Vitya, why didn’t you tell me you were coming? I would have at least been dressed,” she says, looking embarrassed.

Her eyes begin to light up as she takes me in.

“Come, come inside. It’s cold out.”

She looks around for a moment, then back at me.

“I’d…heard you were seeing someone?” she asks.

“Yuuri Katsuki,” I answer, finally loosening my tongue enough to speak to her, “You can meet him later, if you like. I wanted to talk to you alone first.”

The words seem to unsettle her a little, but she smiles and we head into the kitchen, where I sit down at the table and look around a little as she makes coffee. The holes in the walls have long been repaired, but I remember where they were. The table and chairs are different than the ones I recall. Strangely, as I sit there, waiting, I can hear old voices in the back of my mind. I can close my eyes and remember exactly how this room looked all of those years ago. I guess that the last day is frozen in my mind. It’s like time stopped and reset itself when I left. For a long time, I didn’t remember anything but a normal, quiet family on a normal, quiet street. It was a lie I got so used to telling myself that I don’t know how to handle being immersed in the truth again.

“You’re very quiet,” my mother observes, “You look very pale, Vitya. Have you been ill?”

“I suppose you could call it that,” I answer, “I haven’t been sleeping well.”

“Oh,” she says worriedly, “have you been to see a doctor?”

“Yes. I am physically fine, but there is something I need to talk to you about.”

I can see her stiffening and I recall what Stefan said to watch for while talking to her.

_I have to keep this about me, at first. If I start to sound like I’m blaming her, then she won’t talk to me. She’s been living here with him for many years, and he’s so far into her mind that I don’t know if I can reach her._

“I’ve been diagnosed with depression and alcoholism.”

Her eyes close and I can almost see she’s thinking about my father as she draws a shaky breath.

“Oh, Vitya!” she whispers.

Her hands move a little. I can see she instinctively wants to hug me, but she’s holding herself back because it’s like we barely know each other anymore.

_I want her to know that I do remember._

_I want her to know she’s not alone._

I reach out instead and hug her gently. I start to feel panic inside as her arms wrap around me, reassured by me that it’s okay to do that. For a long time, we just stay like that, and neither one of us says a word. She’s the one who finally breaks the silence.

“What can I do?”

I wasn’t expecting her to say that so soon, but when she does, I know I’m at the point where I have to take a chance. I sit back a little, pulling free of her arms, and I look into her eyes with as much calm as I can.

“I need you to come and stay with me in Saint Petersburg…”

“Ah, Vitya, I…”

“For…for a little while,” I explain, “I am starting treatment and I need someone to…to be…a support person. You would go with me to some of my meetings with my counselor.”

“I don’t know…” she says in a haunted voice, “It’s just…wouldn’t Yakov be a better choice for something like that?”

“I thought about asking him,” I tell her, “When my counselor was talking to me, I considered Yakov and I thought about asking Yuuri. But, the idea is that the person I choose for support should be the one who best understands the whole of what is troubling me. Yuuri doesn’t know much at all about my past. And Yakov, while he knows more, doesn’t know… _exactly what took place within these walls._ ”

She stiffens and I place a hand on hers.

“He doesn’t know exactly what happened in this room,” I continue in a softer tone, “You do.”

“Vitya, I can’t!” she gasps, starting to stand.

I let the cup fall from my hand and it crashes to the floor, breaking into pieces.

She freezes, staring in dismay as the sound of shattering glass makes me go pale and causes my teeth to clench tightly as tears well up in the corners of my eyes. The next moment, her arms are hugging me almost crushingly.

Minutes pass while we stand there amidst the shards of broken glass, hugging each other and crying silently. She pets my hair and rubs my back much like Yuuri does when he comforts me. Only, that it’s her doing this feels different. It begins to lift a very heavy weight that I’ve been carrying alone.

“When did you begin to remember?” she asks in a whisper, still holding me against her.

“I’ve been having nightmares a lot since I returned home from Barcelona and began to deal with all of this. Then, last night, I heard a glass shatter at dinner, and for some reason, it brought everything back.”

“I’m so sorry, Vitya!” she sobs, her whole body shaking.

“I couldn’t get a flight until this morning, or I would have come sooner.”

“You didn’t have to come at all. Everything is fine here. I’m fine. You should be worrying about yourself, not me. Things are different than they were.”

“Are they?” I ask, pulling back to look more closely at her.

Her eyes are red from crying and when I look closely, I can see the remains of a healing bruise on her face.

“It’s been twenty years,” she adds, “We don’t have children to take care of now, and…”

“But it hasn’t stopped,” I say firmly, letting her know with my tone that there’s no doubt in my mind, “Someone who does that? They don’t just stop. It’s not just pressure in a person’s life that turns him into an alcoholic and keeps him that way. It becomes a habit…a compulsion. And the reason I know that is because that is the compulsion that I’m fighting right now.”

Her eyes widen and it makes my heart ache to realize what she must be thinking. I quickly work to undo that thinking.

“I’ve never been violent with anyone, not ever,” I explain, “I’m not like _him_. I just meant that I feel an urge to drink all of the time right now…because I’m happy, because I’m sad, because I get angry or upset or any other thing. It’s a horrible, awful disease, and I need you to come with me and help me to stop it.”

She puts a hand over his mouth and sucks in sharp breaths before answering me.

“What about your father?” she asks finally.

“What about him?” I ask, letting the pain come through, but clamping down on the anger that comes with it, “When has he _ever_ said that he wanted to fight it? When did he _ever_ ask you to help him? I haven’t been here for twenty goddamned years, but I know as though I’d been here every day, that the man I remember never thought for a moment about quitting it.”

There are tears streaming down my face, but I ignore them and keep talking to her.

“ _It’s just bullshitting with my friends. Leave me alone about what I do in my free time. I pay for all of this, so give me something I can have to myself.”_

It feels strange how the words start coming from deep down in my gut and my voice gets lower and more agonized as I go on.

“ _Do you blame me for wanting a little fun? Why are you nagging me? Keep those fucking kids quiet so I can go to sleep!”_

“Vitya, stop!”

“F-fine,” I manage, closing my eyes, “I’m sorry. I know I went too far, but all of those times he said those things to you, I _heard_ them! I heard him yelling at you. I heard him hitting you. And even when I was little, I _knew_ it was wrong!”

“Of course you did,” she agrees, choking on the words, “You were such a sweet, sensitive little boy, Vitya.”

She brushes the tears away from my eyes.

“That’s not to say that Irishka and Saveli weren’t, but there was always something about my Vitya that was very, very different. Your brother and sister were wise enough to keep quiet and stay out of the way, but my Vitya had a fire in him. You didn’t stay out of the way, and it’s like you couldn’t stop yourself.”

“ _You told me_ that hitting was wrong, and that if I saw someone being hit that I should tell someone right away. I knew it was wrong because you told me it was. So, I was confused when the person being hit was you. I didn’t understand _why_ you asked me not to help you…and why you said that I couldn’t say anything to anyone or we would be taken away from you. I wondered why we would be punished when we were the ones getting hurt.”

“I’m so sorry!”

“I didn’t understand about the fact that we needed him to support us. That didn’t mean anything to me. I didn’t understand that you asked that of all of us because you were depending on him. But I do understand now, and I came here to tell you that you don’t have to do that anymore.”

“Vitya!” she sobs, burying her face in my shoulder, “Vitya, you shouldn’t have come here. You didn’t have to…”

“I did. I had to come here, because I’m not eight years old anymore. I’m not too small and too weak to be of any use.”

“I never thought that!”

“But _he_ did. He threw that in my face. I didn’t remember for a long time, but I do now. I’m old enough to know better, strong enough to protect you and I’m rich enough so that you don’t have to do this anymore!”

“Vitya, I can’t…”

“Can’t what? Can’t leave him?” I ask, taking her face in my hands, “He takes whatever he wants from you. He hurts you and he has never once apologized, has he? He blames you. But it isn’t you. It’s not you and it’s not me. It wasn't Irishka or Seveli. It’s him. He is a violent alcoholic and every day that you spend with him is a day he could lose control and kill you! Didn’t you learn anything from watching him almost kill me? You’re lucky you lived long enough that I grew up and remembered, and that I could come back here for you. I couldn’t stand it if he hurt you now, not while I could do something about it.”

“I told you, I…”

“You don’t have to promise to leave him. Just…pack for a week. We’ll go to the resort where I am training and you can be there while I meet with my counselor. Leave a note for him. Tell him that I have to have a medical procedure and I asked you to come. Give me a week. That’s all I’m asking. Mother, will you please come with me?”

The two of us startle as the battered screen door from the garage into the kitchen opens and my father walks in, wearing a scowl.

“Where are you asking her to go?”


	9. The Apple and the Tree

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Victor's attempt to protect his mother takes a worrisome turn.

I know that my father is waiting for an answer, but standing in the same place I did twenty years ago, in a mess of broken glass just makes my insides tighten until I can’t say a word. Strangely, he doesn’t repeat his question. He looks down at the glass, then at my mother.

“Is…everything okay here, Mirra?”

“It’s fine, Modya,” my mother answers nervously, “It was an accident. I was just about to clean it up.”

She moves to get a cleaning cloth as my father comes closer to me. It’s so strange, watching him act like the normal parent I thought he was. He acts like there’s no way that he could ever be the man who got drunk and almost beat me to death. I’m stunned he can be so…

“You look like hell, son,” he says sympathetically, “Is something wrong with you? Is that why you came? But, you would go to Yakov if there was something like that, wouldn’t you?”

“Shouldn’t a person go to his family if there is something wrong like that?” I ask.

He looks at me like I’ve said something that makes no sense.

“I don’t think I understand you, Victor,” he says, “Why don’t you tell me what it is you came here for?”

“I came to ask Mother to come and stay with me for a week at the mountain resort where I am training. I am also receiving treatment for a medical issue. It isn’t life threatening, but I want her there.”

He gives my mother a look of warning, then looks back at me.

“Now really isn’t a good time,” he says quietly.

“Oh, is something going on with you?”

“We’re just very busy right now and can’t get away.”

“Well, I knew not to trouble you, because you would be working,” I answer, keeping my voice carefully calm, “but surely you can take care of yourself for a few days while she is with me. I know she went to stay with Irishka when she had her children. That wasn’t a problem, was it? So, I’m sure that it should be all right for her to come and support me.”

I see a little flicker of realization, then he tilts his head slightly.

“Oh, I see. This is about your drinking problem. That is your medical issue, right?”

“Why would you assume something like that?” I ask.

_He must have heard about what happened in Barcelona._

“Well, there were news reports about you getting drunk and collapsing in Barcelona, then just today there was that skater on the news, saying that you’d attacked him in a restaurant.”

“What?”

_Andrei…?_

“I didn’t catch the man’s name, just that he said you went off on him in a drunken rage and threw a hot drink in his face.”

_First of all, I wasn’t drunk. Secondly, the drink was only warm, because he’d been holding it for a little while before he switched it with mine. That he would go on record with that story…_

“It seems like you’re a little out of control,” my father says, looking steadily at me, “Maybe you’d better not come back here until you have your problem more firmly in hand.”

_If that isn’t the pot calling the kettle black…!_

_I’m so angry!_

_But…Stefan warned me not to lose my temper. No matter what, I have to stay in control of myself._

_But what do I do?_

“You are kicking me out of my own home?” I ask, anger leaking into my voice, even though I don’t mean for it to.

“This hasn’t been your home for a very long time, Victor. You know that.”

“No, it hasn’t,” I agree.

_I think I have to lay my cards on the table. I have to make sure that he knows not to touch her if I have to leave without her._

“It hasn’t been my home since the night you got drunk and almost beat me to death in this very room,” I say in the calmest, quietest voice I can manage.

He looks me straight in the eyes and shocks me with his next words.

“I don’t think I know what you’re talking about, son.”

_Stefan said that he might very well try to deny it._

_It’s not completely surprising, but it still stuns me to hear it._

“Oh, I think you do,” I insist.

_Why is he smiling?_

“I think you must not be remembering things correctly,” he goes on.

I see my mother’s gaze drop to look at the floor.

“You did get injured twenty years ago, just before you left to live in the dorms in Saint Petersburg, but the hospital records clearly say that you sneaked out of the house and you were beat up by a group of street kids.”

_It’s the lie my mother told to keep him from being arrested._

_Is he trying to gaslight me?_

My mother’s hands are clenched and shaking softly, and she still can’t look at me.

“Mirra?” he says, and I see her flinch.

“I know what the hospital records say,” I interrupt.

_I don’t want her involved in this!_

“Then, what is the problem?” he asks pointedly, “Obviously, you have imagined something that isn’t true, but you’ve always lived a little bit out of reality, haven’t you?”

“I am sure that I remember what happened that night.”

“Do you?” he asks icily, “You might want to be careful about the accusations you throw around, because not only are you suggesting I’m guilty of assault, you are saying that your mother lied to cover up a crime. Would you like to see us both in jail? Is that what you want, Victor?”

I know what he’s doing, but I can’t believe it. My heart starts racing and I stare back at him, unable to think of what to say.

“I think you had better go now, Victor, and you shouldn’t come back until you’ve talked to someone.”

_God, there’s nothing more I can do at this point! I have to leave her here. She won’t go with me, and if I push things farther…_

_Still, I have to do something to protect her._

“Fine,” I answer coldly, carefully keeping my eyes on his, “I will go. But…you should understand one thing. I am not the weak, pathetic little boy you remember, and I am not giving up. I’m older, stronger and I have the resources to make sure that you are held accountable if you harm her.”

“Who?” he asks, looking at me like I’ve gone crazy, “Are you talking about your mother? Mirra? Why in the world would I hurt her? Have you lost your mind? I would never do that. I want you to leave, right now, Victor, or I swear, I will call the police!”

_The raised voices will have alerted Stefan and Yuuri._

_I’m not alone right now._

_It’s okay._

_Stay calm._

“Call the police, if you want. Call them and I will be happy to point out the healing bruises on Mother’s body that prove I’m not the one who’s lying or insane. And after that, you can expect that there will be welfare checks to be sure that you don’t lay a finger on her. I’ll go now, but don’t you dare hurt her because you’re angry at me. If you do, you can expect you won’t get away with it!”

I start to head past him to the front door, but as I start to pass by him, he moves so quickly I can’t react. One hand wraps around my throat and he shoves me back against the wall. It’s only my quick reflexes that allow me to brace myself and to get my fingers in the way of his, so that I’m not in immediate danger of him killing me.

_I won’t use violence unless there’s no other choice._

_I’m not like him!_

“What was that you said to me, son?” he growls.

“Vitya!” Mother gasps in distress.

The front door opens and, thank god, he lets go.

“Victor,” Stefan says, looking directly at my father, “are you all right? I saw him grabbing you.”

“I’m fine.”

“Are you sure?” Yuuri asks.

“I’m okay.”

“All of you, get out of here!” my father yells, “Victor, you and your deranged friends have no right to come here! GET OUT!”

My eyes meet my mother’s one last time as we back out the front door and head to the waiting car. When we’re inside, I realize I’m shaking all over.

“Victor,” Yuuri says, putting an arm around me, “are you sure he didn’t hurt you? He had you by the throat.”

He looks at my neck more closely and frowns anxiously.

“You’ve got some bruising there.”

“It’s not bad,” I answer, looking into the car’s rearview mirror, “And anyway, I always wear scarves. It’ll be fine. Don’t worry about it.”

“Hey,” Yuuri says, placing a hand on my face, “I’m always going to worry about you.”

“Thank god the two of you were there,” I say, giving Stefan a grateful look, “I did try to convince her to leave, and when he came in, I also tried to stay calm and not let her be brought into it. But…he threatened me that if he was questioned for beating me that time, he would be sure that it came out my mother lied to the hospital and police back then, that I was beat up by street kids when I sneaked out.”

“And it is possible enough that she would at least be questioned,” Stefan sighs, “He knew just what to say. I’m sorry, Victor.”

“Sorry isn’t going to get her out of there,” I answer bitterly, “Damn it! If he hadn’t come in, I might have been able to convince her. What can I do now?”

“There has to be some way,” Yuuri agrees.

Stefan gives me an encouraging look.

“Your warning to him may intimidate him into holding back physically, although he may still be verbally abusive. And it is still possible that if your father gets drunk, he could lose control. But, I was able to slip my card with a note on it into a ladies coat that was near the door. I don’t think he saw.”

“Good move,” Yuuri says approvingly, “I was right next to you and I didn’t see.”

“Hopefully, she will find a safe place to keep it and she will call if she needs help. With your father ordering us off the property, there isn’t any more that we can do right now. I think we need to return to the resort and we need to sit down and talk about everything.”

I don’t want to leave. Everything in me wants to break down that door and take my mother away from him. My head knows that it wouldn’t help, that it would make things worse to try to do that, but my heart is in tatters, and I can’t think about anything else as we return to the airport and wait to catch a flight back. Yuuri sits down beside me and takes my hand in his.

“I know not to ask if you’re okay, but are you hanging in there?” he asks.

“As well as I can be,” I answer in a voice that sounds as weary as I feel, “It’s killing me that I didn’t have a way to get her out of there. It’s like being back there again, in a way. I may not have been completely helpless and he didn’t hurt me this time, but I didn’t accomplish anything but making it harder for me to reach her. God, what if he does really lose control and he...?”

“Try not to think about that,” Yuuri says, slipping an arm around me, “It’s like Stefan said, you have to focus on yourself right now. You’ve got a lot going on.”

I wince as I remember my father’s words.

“I’m going to do more than throw a drink in Andrei’s face the next time I see him!”

“P-probably not a very good idea,” Yuuri concludes.

“Maybe not, but if I’m going to be labeled a raging drunk anyway…”

“Just consider the source, and remember that Yakov will run interference for you.”

“That reminds me, we may have a welcoming committee when we get back,” I sigh.

“Just don’t make any comments,” Stefan advises me, “Let Yakov give any statements.”

“You and I will just focus on our skating,” Yuuri says determinedly, “We have major competitions coming up, so we need to get ready.”

“You’re right about that, although I don’t know how I will concentrate.”

“Just take one thing at a time,” Stefan says reassuringly, “Stay out of the spotlight and train quietly.”

“And what about my mother?”

“There isn’t anything you can do if she chooses to stay with your father. You have done everything you can. You can remain vigilant, but you have to let go of responsibility for her situation. Your father is the one who is hurting her, and as much as you have let her know you will support and protect her, she has to take a step towards you if she wants our help.”

“I know you’re right, but that doesn’t make this any easier at all.”

“No, I’m sure it doesn’t.”

There’s not much more to say as we return to the airport and head towards the gate. We’re quiet on the flight back too, only speaking when absolutely necessary, but I feel Yuuri’s warmth at my side and I appreciate that even though it’s very hard, I’m not worrying alone. It’s late when we reach our destination, but even so, we find several reporters waiting.

“How the heck did they know where we were?” Yuuri muses, scowling.

“Probably _he_ made a point of telling them,” I deduce, “I made him furious by going there and trying to get Mother to leave with me. I wonder now if I had waited longer…been more careful, if...”

“You were very careful,” Stefan assures me, “It was just bad luck. I’m going to step back now. It’s probably best if I don’t bring attention to myself. I will meet the two of you at the car. Just tell them you have no comment right now.”

Yuuri and I take a breath together, then we walk forward, keeping our faces relaxed and serious as we approach the place where the reporters wait. As we reach them, a few begin to call out questions.

“Victor, it is true that you threw a hot drink in skater Andrei’s face at dinner the other night?”

“Have you been seeking alcohol related counseling after your collapse in Barcelona?”

“Do you have any response to skater Andrei’s comment that you are a dangerous drunk?”

I slow and start to speak, but I’m taken aback as Yakov steps out from somewhere to the side of them and interposes himself between us.

“I am sorry, but it is very late and Victor is exhausted. He will not be making any comments tonight.”

I meet his eyes with intense gratitude.

_He has never failed to be there for me…never. He was there when my father nearly beat me to death. He kept me from making a lot of bad decision, and he has always protected me in so many ways._

The reporters continue to toss questions at us as we leave, but my heart has calmed, now that I am back in his presence. I know things are a long way from being okay, but with him there, I’m not so afraid.

“Vitya, where is Stefan?” Yakov asks.

“He stepped away so as not to attract any attention to himself,” I explain, “He will be waiting at the car.”

“Very well. Let’s go.”

I move closer to him and lean slightly against him as we head for the car. Yuuri stays close on my other side as we walk.

“So,” Yakov says softly, “you couldn’t convince Mirra to come with you?”

“No. _He_ showed up and I couldn’t convince her to leave with me.”

“Hmm. That’s too bad. I’m sorry to hear it. But I wouldn’t give up altogether.”

I give him a curious look and he hands me his cell phone that has received a short message.

_Take care of him, Yakov._

_And thank him for coming to talk to me._

_Tell him I love him for wanting so much to protect me._

_I am so proud of my Vitya._


	10. Innocent Lies

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Victor has his meeting with Stefan to determine his recovery process.

The next morning, I wake as usual, a bit before Yuuri does and I have an instant ache to be on the ice. I can’t get dressed or downstairs fast enough. I forget to eat anything. I just grab a bottle of water so that I won’t get dehydrated and I put my skates on. I work out on the inside rink, which isn’t being used so much right now, because the weather’s been good and everyone wants to be outside in the sun. I don’t mind the greater chill. I just really like being alone and creating.

My heart knows the exact dimensions of the rink, so I can close my eyes through some moves and try to capture which way my soul is moving today.

Yuuri’s asked me a million times how I think of what I want to do in a program. It’s not so difficult, really. It starts with an emotion, something that comes to me as I work out on the ice. It’s only in that peaceful place I go to in my head, while my body is turning, spinning, laying back or rising into a jump, that I can completely leave the world I’m in and connect with the heart of what will be my next program.

_Lies…_

_The good and the bad kind._

_There are some lies that are gentle, lies we breathe in soft voices. These lies aren’t meant to hurt anyone. They’re spoken to spare loved ones from feeling pain. These are innocent lies…_

_It doesn’t look so bad (even though it does)_

_I know it hurts, but you’ll feel better soon (It may be awhile)_

_It’s not much longer (but it is)_

_You’re perfect the way you are (We’re all imperfect, and that’s as it should be)_

_I believe in you (I’m not as sure as I sound, but I am here for you)_

_I know you’ll do it eventually (But if you don’t, I’ll be here for you)_

It’s while I’m skating that feeling that the music starts to come to me. While I’m still feeling the emotion and hearing the music, I begin to move to it, trying to capture the proper flow, to make my blades cut that emotion into the ice, to let it run from my heart into my core, then turn and let it radiate outward, through my limbs. Every part of me, inside and out just becomes an extension of that emotion.

_Lies…_

_When we tell everyone we’re okay (But we’re not)_

_When we push the hurt down and smile (We cry inside)_

_The truth is all around us (But we won’t speak it)_

_We tell innocent lies to show love, to soothe, to support, to care for someone. Innocent lies are the soft landing we give each other._

_Why?_

_Why am I feeling this now?_

_What does this have to do with everything that’s going on in my life right now…or am I just escaping into my art form? I guess it doesn’t really matter. All that matters is the connection between the ice beneath my feet and my human heart. Everything that tasks my heart, good or bad, comes out here, on the ice._

_Each beat of my heart is one spent living. If I’ve spent that moment here, skating my emotions, then that heartbeat is never wasted. No matter what happens out there in the world, I’m always at home with myself here._

_The chill air…_

_…the feeling of gliding…_

_…although moving through life is slow and clumsy, here I move swiftly and in perfect time…_

_…arms in while I spin…_

_…then out so I can soar…_

_I feel so much when I’m skating._

_I wish I could just live here._

I’m still in the midst of my wandering thoughts when I feel that something around me has changed. I feel Yakov’s eyes watching from behind the rink wall. Then…I feel Yuuri’s hand take mine.

It’s then that I really begin to fly.

I don’t wait until the end of our practice to dance with him. This time, we dance right away. Yuuri reads me so well now that he’s with me on every hop, loop and spin. Sometimes we hold hands and sometimes we work side-by-side. Together, we make a kind of magic that makes everything around us disappear.

I said before that I am most at home on the ice because it lets me skate my emotions. When Yuuri’s with me, I don’t just skate my emotions, we skate ours. While we’re working together, it’s more intense than lovemaking. The love we feel streams out from our hearts, through our bodies and along our limbs. It leaks out of our eyes and off our fingertips. I never felt so much when I was skating alone. Now, Yuuri’s presence at my side brings me into whole new places emotionally. I feel myself connecting powerfully with those new worlds and I’m overflowing with inspiration.

_Yuuri, I know I’ve said it a million times, but going to Hasetsu to become your coach was the most wonderful and perfect thing I ever did. I know that every tine we skate together, when we dance together, cook together, lie down and make love together…even when we argue. Thank you for seducing me with your dancing and your drunken proposition. Thank you for letting me into your world, into your home and family, into your life. Every step with you is a new adventure. I just can’t wait until the day we are married._

_I live for that._

_Thinking about that makes the hard things now seem easier. It lightens the burden on my heart and lets me breathe more easily. I’m so blessed to have you in my life._

“Victor?”

I come back to reality and find that we’ve stopped moving and I’m holding Yuuri close, so that our lips are almost touching. We’ve attracted some spectators, and several have their cell phones out and look to have been recording or snapping pictures of our ice dancing. I smile and give them an absolutely stunning capture of me giving Yuuri a romantic kiss that would put the kisses of all the handsome princes to shame.

_Let them put that on the news._

With more people gathering to watch, I start Yuuri’s practice session, going over his programs with affine toothed comb and picking at every last detail. Then, we spend time working on his quad flip and quad lutz, a jump he’s hoping to add to his roster soon. He landed it in our exhibition, but his completion rate isn’t high enough yet for competition. I set him to work, then I head to where Yakov is waiting.

“Enough playing, Vitya,” he pretend-scolds me, “Show me what you have.”

He frowns at first as he realizes that something is different. This is not the short program I was working on. I show him the skating I came up with only this morning, and I can see immediately that although he wants to yell at me for changing my mind so close to competition, he sees the genius in the moves.

“You are kidding me, Vitya!” he complains.

“Yakov, it’s inspired!” I argue, “The theme is _Lies_. This short program expresses the innocent lies we tell to other people…or to ourselves, for our protection, for our comfort.”

“And are you also changing your free skate?” he sighs, shaking his head.

“I have to change the music and the focus, but a lot of the moves are the same. Let me show you.”

I show him the longer program that had come into my head, then I return to find him looking thoroughly perplexed.

“The free skate is called _Two Faces_ , and it expresses the physical lie we are when we show one face to the world, but inside, we feel much different.”

“Damn it…” he mutters.

“You think it’s better than what I had, don’t you, Yakov?”

“I do,” he agrees, “But can you have it together in time for nationals? Are you sure you can do that?”

I tilt my head and give him an amused look.

“Yakov, you insult me!” I laugh.

He gives me a more happy little smirk.

“That’s my Vitya.”

When our practice session is over, we order lunch to be sent to Yakov’s suite, and we meet there with Stefan to have that long postponed meeting to talk about his recommendations for my treatment. I’m anxious to know what he will say, but I have come to trust him. Stefan has already done more to really know me than anyone did at that first clinic visit. He immersed himself in my life over the past few days, and I wonder how that will affect what he decides to tell me.

I lay down on the sofa, putting my head in Yuuri’s lap while we wait for the food to arrive. Filip is near the picture window, looking out at the view and holding Stefan’s hand. It’s so comfortable like this that I can almost forget that we are here to talk about how I’ve screwed up a part of my life, and what I have to do to begin to fix myself.

_Why did I have to be born to that man? I’m nothing like him…well, except for being an alcoholic. But, at least I’m getting some help. I wish that I could help mother also._

I see Yakov’s phone sitting on the table, and I pick it up to look again at the words my mother sent him. He’s in the other room, because the food just arrived. I’m sure he won’t mind. I read the words again, and I smile, even though it’s a sad smile. I start to exit the screen, then I notice, first that my mother wasn’t calling from her cell, and second, that Yakov sent a reply to her.

_I will always be here for you and our Vitya, Mirra. If you need anything, only ask._

“Vitya, what are you doing?” Yakov snaps, taking the phone from me, “Give me that.”

“I was just looking at my mother’s message,” I tell him.

His look get a little more sympathetic.

“Well, next time, ask.”

He starts to turn away, but I stop him.

“Yakov, did you give her that other phone?”

Yuuri and I exchange curious glances as he thinks before answering.

“You aren’t the only one who tried to make her see she should leave him,” he says finally, “I gave her the phone when I took you to live with me. I told her to keep it somewhere safe and use it if she needed to.”

He starts to walk away to join the others filling up their plates with food.

“Yakov, you are a good friend.”

“Hmph!” he huffs, shaking his head and walking away.

“What’s with him?” Yuuri asks.

“Eh, who knows. Let’s get something to eat. I’m starving. How about you?”

“Oh yeah, me too.”

We fill up on food, then Filip excuses himself and leaves Stefan with just Yakov, Yuuri and me. I feel calmer about the meeting now, but I’m also still a little worried about what he will say.

“Victor,” Stefan says, as he sits across from me, and Yakov and Yuuri are on either side of me, listening too, “I have to tell you that I have a very different impression of you than I did when I finished looking over your intake information. Some of the things that changed? Well, first is, of course, that you have recalled the abuse you suffered as a child. That was not something that you knew, so it wasn’t your fault that you didn’t disclose it. The repressed memory is something we will need to keep in mind as we continue. You are still in the early stages of recovering your memories related to that incident, so you will need some guidance in dealing with that. I feel it’s been beneficial that I was here to see you respond to that. I learned a lot about you that I couldn’t tell from the intake questions and examination.”

“Like what?” I ask him.

“Well, for starters, I’ve learned that you have strong connections around you, and you utilize them already to help yourself through difficult things. Your relationship with Yakov is a very good thing. Having done most of your growing up in a dorm situation, it was good for you to have him looking out for you, and it seems that he fulfilled the need you would have had for a father figure. Your relationship with Yuuri, too, is a positive one, and even the times I’ve seen you disagree, there has never been any sign of violence or abuse between you. I’m glad to see that, because domestic violence can have its seed in abuse that one receives abuse in his or her formative years.”

“Are you saying that, because Victor was abused as a child, even though he didn’t remember, he could have become abusive too?” Yuuri asks worriedly.

“It doesn’t happen to everyone,” Stefan assures him, “It is just that having been abused, whether he remembered it or not, put Victor at a higher risk of abusing a partner or family member, at some point.”

“Vitya is not like that,” Yakov says firmly, “He would never try to really hurt someone, unless his life depended on it.”

Stefan gives an affirmative nod.

“That certainly matches up with the person I observed when Victor’s father had him by the throat. There was certainly reason for Victor to react, and he did. But, he only applied the force necessary to hinder the attack. I saw no sign of violence, just self-protection.”

“I don’t think I decided one way or another,” I say, frowning.

“No, your reaction was instinctive,” Stefan explains, “and that’s why I trust what I saw. Now, something else I’ve noticed that may have a big effect on your treatment, is how much you are motivated to live a more sober life. You are open to my advice, and you fight your impulse to drink pretty admirably so far. I think you’ll need monitoring and assistance to continue to fight off the addiction, but I believe there are lots of ways that the recovery center can assist you.”

“Do you think that I will be able to work out an outpatient treatment?” I ask hopefully.

I worry at the look that comes onto his face, but his tone when he answers is bracing.

“Here’s what I think. I was watching you this morning while you were skating, at first alone, then with Yakov watching and Yuuri on the ice with you. I think that the three of you make a good team for building the foundation for your recovery, but…that isn’t going to be enough. It’s just the beginning. I know you have a skating season you’re in the midst of, and I don’t really want to see you go off track while you’re in that busy time, but I also agree that it would not be good for you psychologically or recovery-wise, to take you away from skating. Skating is a source of added strength for you. If we assume that you will keep skating, it’s clear that the usual outpatient program won’t work. It requires daily returns to the center for drug testing and maintenance, as well as group and individual meetings.”

“I can see that’s not going to work,” I agree, “so what are my options?”

“Victor,” he says, taking my hands, “I have to say that while I’ve been here, you’ve inspired me. I took the job I have now, because I used to be an alcoholic, and when I was helped and I went back to school, I decided that if I could help even one person like me to not let alcohol ruin his or her life, I would feel like I had succeeded in something really important. I’ve helped people in the recovery center, and that makes me feel great, but it seems like your need for help and mine for reaching out and helping someone in a less conventional way are crossing paths. I think that you should not face this season without guidance. I’m talking about someone who will meet with you every day, who will work within your schedule and see that you receive counseling, training in helpful thinking and meditation, and access to group settings that work for you. I am thinking that if you decide it will work for you, I will personally see you through this season. I will go with you when you travel, and support your recovery in whatever ways you need.”

“Are you serious?” I ask, “Stefan, really? I mean, I am just one person. Don’t you work with other people at the center?”

“I’ve been at the center for over ten years and I was just deciding what to do with the sabbatical time I’ve earned. I thought that if you want me to, I can support you through the skating season, but…in return, I want to ask something of you that might be difficult for you.”

“What is that?”

He considers a moment, then answers.

“I think that you should consider a month of inpatient treatment during the off season, to make sure that you have all that you need to be successful. I can get you through the season and I can start what work needs to be done, but to really be sure we break this cycle, you need some time away from everything. I can arrange for you to continue to skate, and after the first week, you can have visitors and even go home on weekends. The inpatient time will be spent in specifically targeted counseling that will give you the highest possibility of success.”

He looks at the three of us and gives us a sympathetic look.

“I’m sure that’s not what you wanted to hear, but it is what I think is best. You can choose to have me come with you and do the outpatient treatment upon your return, but there are some things the inpatient treatment offers that outpatient treatment can’t. I don’t want you to answer right away. After this weekend, Filip and I will be going back to Saint Petersburg. You can let me know when you’ve decided which way you want to go.”

“Thank you, Stefan,” I say quietly, “Yakov, Yuuri and I will talk it all over together and I will let you know.”

“Okay, and in the meantime, since new information has come out about alcoholism in your family, I will need to get some more information about your mother and father. Do you know if there was any history of drug or alcohol abuse, or any domestic violence in your mother’s side of the family?”

“No, no, there was nothing like that,” I assure him, “There was no history of violence in my father’s side that I know of either, although we all know now that my father, himself is an alcoholic and abusive.”

“No, Vitya,” Yakov says, stopping me, “he is not.”

The rest of us exchange confused looks.

“We all just saw Modya Nikiforov grab Victor by the throat,” Stefan says in a curious tone, “and Victor has recovered a memory of his father’s drunken attack on him, that you, yourself, confirmed, so…how can you say that Modya Nikiforov is not an abusive alcoholic?”

Yakov’s expression turns into something that, shockingly, looks like relief.

“Modya Nikiforov is not Victor’s father.”

_What did he say?_

“I am.”

_Wh-what???_


	11. A Winter Night's Dance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yakov explains the details of Victor's conception.

I stare at Yakov without saying anything, while the words keep banging themselves into my resistant mind.

_Yakov?_

_My guardian and coach?_

_That Yakov…he…?_

_My mother?_

_No, not possible, right?_

“Victor,” Stefan says, putting a hand on my arm supportively, “I’m sure you’re pretty shocked at what you just heard. If you can, try to put your emotions into words. Take your time doing this. It was quite an admission for you to hear. I’m sure you have many questions for Yakov.”

“Do I have questions?” I mumble, blinking my eyes because I’m not sure now that I’m awake, “Yakov, y-you are saying that you…committed adultery with my mother almost twenty-eight years ago?”

I feel complete giddiness in my head at the suggestion, because…my mother? My tall, beautiful, silver-haired, pretty-eyed charming, graceful mother went to bed with…with (Oh, I’m so sorry for this, but…) shorter, stockier, grumpy and probably already balding Yakov?

 _Just…not…possible_.

I look at Yuuri’s completely stunned face, and all of a sudden, my insides tighten and I start to laugh hysterically. Yakov crosses his arms and scowls as I hold my stomach and laugh until tears are running down my face and I feel like I might throw up.

“You had sex with my mother?” I ask again, more tactfully.

I mean, I don’t really practice religion, but our family sort of did, and I know that when Yakov was younger and married to Lilia, she made him go. She told me this. So, for him to…to…

_No, I still can’t believe it. I have to have misheard, da?_

But Yakov’s face is perfectly serious, and now he looks pretty offended by the fact that I can’t stop laughing. Yuuri looks perplexed and Stefan looks like he’s scrambling to think of something to say.

“Stop laughing, you idiot!” Yakov snaps, but I just laugh harder, until I’m dizzy from not taking enough breaths and I actually collapse onto Yuuri’s lap on the couch.

“Victor!” Yuuri shouts.

“O-oh, s-stop, it hurts,” I croak, because I think I’ve injured my vocal chords or something.

“Stefan, what do we do?” Yuuri demands.

“I’ll tell you what we do,” Yakov says, leaning over and slapping me, not too hard, but hard enough that I feel the sting and stop laughing finally.

“S-sorry, did you r-really say you slept with my mother? Y-you, Yakov?”

“That’s what I said,” he answers, matter-of-factly, “IF you think you can shut up and listen instead of treating this like some kind of joke, I will explain.”

“Sorry,” apologize, coughing a few times, “God, I’m wheezing.”

“Take some slow breaths,” Stefan advises me, while Yuuri helps me sit up and rubs my back.

“Oh my god, does this mean I’ll lose my hair after all?” I squawk.

_That is terrifying!_

“Relax, you fool,” Yakov scolds me, his eyes looking like they want to burn a hole in me, “You have Mirra’s thick, full hair and her eyes. In fact, you got little from me.”

“Except his tendency to give lectures in the kiss and cry,” Yuuri slips in, under his breath.

“It’s a good thing you took so much after her and not me,” Yakov continues, “because it kept Modya from suspecting…for a while. But I should start at the beginning.”

“Wait…wait, my father _knows you committed adultery with my mother and he didn’t kill you_?” I gasp.

“BE QUIET, VITYA!” he roars, making me flinch and hold onto Yuuri.

“His eyes are scary,” I whisper to my lover.

“Yeah,” he agrees.

Yakov drops into a chair, facing us as he continues his story.

“I first met Mirra one night after work. It was after Lilia had left me, so I had a place to live, but I had to supplement my income as a coach back then by working in a bar.”

“You were a bouncer?” I ask, “You would have been great at that.”

“I SAID BE QUIET!”

“Sorry!”

“I was a bouncer,” he affirms as I cover my mouth and stifle another giggle, “I was just off my shift and walking home. I was passing through a little wooded area, just outside town, not far from the bar. There was a lot of crime, but I wasn’t worried, because I could take care of myself. Ahead of me, I saw a car pull over and heard a man and a woman arguing, then the man pushed the woman out of the car and she fell onto the icy ground. She tried to scramble back to the car, but the man drove away. I was still a ways off, and there were a couple of men going, I assumed, to help her, so I just kept going in that direction, watching them as they approached her. They said something to her and she climbed to her feet and started to walk back in my direction. She spotted me and I noticed she looked afraid. It was then that the two men took her arms and attempted to drag her into the trees.”

“Oh my god! What did you do?” I exclaim.

“I beat up the two ruffians and left them lying on the cold roadside, then I offered the woman a hand.”

_“I live close by. If you want, you can come and clean up.”_

“She looked scared to accept my offer.”

_“Oh, I think my husband will be coming back…maybe.”_

_“Why would he leave you here? It’s freezing tonight and it’s starting to snow. Come, at least let me take you somewhere safe. We can go back to the bar, although it’s a bit of a walk, or we can go to my house, which is closer.”_

“She looked back in the direction of the bar, but she wasn’t dressed well for the weather, and she was already cold and shivering.”

_“I suppose we should go to your house, because it’s closer.”_

_“All right. Come this way…um…?”_

_“Mirra.”_

“She was obviously cold and she was pale and scared from her ordeal. She didn’t seem so sure she could trust me, but more felt that she had no real choice. I took her to my house and I lit a warm fire in the fireplace, then I offered her a robe to wear and started to wash her damp clothing. I left the room and went to change. When I came back, I heard singing as I came down the hallway. She was singing to the radio, and when I walked in, she was dancing too.”

Yakov’s eyes are warm when they meet mine.

“You know what a beautiful woman your mother is, how lovely her voice is and what a charming dancer she is,” he goes on, “I couldn’t say anything at first. I could only stand and watch something that…well, the closest I can come to describing it is that it was like your Lilac Fairy program, Vitya.”

“The one in which I wore the feathery top and a feminine hairstyle?” I ask.

“Yes, that one. That program is the one that most made me realize how much you favor her. Anyway, she had me completely enthralled in a moment, and when she saw me, rather than looking surprised or offended, she laughed and offered me a hand to join her.”

“You danced with her, Yakov?” I laugh, “That’s so romantic…and _so_ naughty of you, dancing with another man’s wife!”

“It wasn’t the dancing that made her pregnant,” Yakov huffs, “It’s just that we danced for awhile, then we drank warmed hard cider and started talking. She told me about her husband and her two young children at home, and I swear, I had no intention of being improper with her that night. But the snow came down harder and we ended up getting snowed in for more than a day. We slept near the fire to stay really warm, and while we were lying there and talking away half the night, it became clear that she was unhappy with her life.”

_“The truth is, I don’t want to go back. Modya is mostly a good husband, but he’s been depressed about work. He never feels he makes enough and it’s frustrating for him. He’s trying so hard. And the kids are young, so they are loud and he gets fed up with that, too. I try to keep the house clean, but with the two children, I barely have time to get everything down for them. The house is messy. The kids are noisy, so he drinks to calm himself down and relax. Unfortunately, it makes him angry and he doesn’t handle it well, so…we have times like tonight, that started as dinner out and ended with him throwing me out of the car. Still, by morning, he’ll have the police out searching for me, probably saying I ran off.”_

_“He doesn’t deserve a pretty, kind girl like you.”_

“She told me that she had been with a dance company, and had dreamed of making a name for herself. Modya was a patron who came to see a performance she was in, and after, they began to see each other. It wasn’t long before he convinced her to leave her work and marry him. It ended up being the worst decision she ever made. Modya was unsuccessful in his work, and they always struggled for money. Mirra didn’t care so much. She was happy with the children and content with just a small, modest home. It was Modya who couldn’t handle that she would have been more successful than him. It fueled his drinking, and he became more and more violent. When I found her that night, she had skinned up knees and bruises on her cheek and arm. It made me so angry, I told her she couldn’t go back. I told her I would protect her, and that I had friends who could have the children given to her custody.”

“ _You are so kind, Yakov, but…I am already too old to start up my career, and with two children, I couldn’t…”_

_“Leave him and I’ll help you.”_

“She insisted that she had to go back, but as the night want on and we drank more and talked more, she seemed to gather her nerve and she said she wanted to leave him. That’s when she told me that she was glad she’d met me. It was a relief to know that there was someone who cared. Being with a man like Modya was lonely. It wouldn’t have happened if we hadn’t been drinking and let our guard down, but we were so comfortable together, and one thing led to another.”

“Wow,” I sigh appreciatively, “that’s really kind of sweet. Still very naughty, but sweet.”

“You’re a fine one to talk,” he scolds me, “How many women have you bedded, Vitya?”

“Oh, that’s not nice to talk about past partners in front of Yuuri,” I complain, “but you know that even though I had a lot of partners, I _never_ slept with a married woman, except that one who lied to me that she was single, and I felt very bad about that time! I also never had more than one partner at a time. I was, at least, loyal.”

“Well, it’s easy for someone like you, who inherited her beauty and her charms.”

“It’s not easy,” I sigh, “It’s just that we have different problems.”

“I suppose that’s true,” Yakov says, looking not very convinced, “Anyway, we were together that night.”

“A lot of times?”

“VITYA!”

“Sorry!”

“Anyway, she was just like you in personality, so what do you think?”

“Yakov!”

“And when the morning came, I woke to find her gone and a note asking me not to try to find her.”

_My dearest Yakov,_

_Thank you for seeing me through last night. I don’t know what would have happened to me, if you hadn’t been there. I have no regrets about spending last night with you, and I don’t want you to have any either. I promise I will be all right now. I would leave for good, but I am too worried about losing my two children. I could never forgive myself if Modya got them away from me. It is better this way. I do hope we cross paths again someday. You are the best friend I can imagine._

_Fondly,_

_Mirra N._

“I didn’t like it, but it was what she wanted, so I didn’t try to find her. We didn’t cross paths again, until you were seven, and I saw you at that exhibition.”

“Did you know I was yours, once you realized who my mother was?” I ask.

“I thought about it, but I did not say anything about my suspicion, because I had promised to let that one time go. If she had wanted me involved, she knew where I was. Things after that proceeded as I already told you. The only additional thing is that when I saw your father had been beating you, I pushed her to give me guardianship pretty vigorously, saying that I could not let things go on as they were. When I left with you, I gave her that phone, and when I brought you to the dorms and you went through the required vaccinations and testing, I had blood drawn for a paternity test. I’ve known since you were given to me, that you were my son and not Modya’s. I never directly discussed it with Mirra, but we both knew.”

“Come to think of it, my fath-erm…Modya may have suspected,” I add, “because that night when he beat me so badly, he did call me a little bastard. I thought it was a figurative thing, but maybe he really meant it literally.”

“I don’t know if he knew. Maybe that was part of the problem. Whatever the case, the only acknowledgement we gave was that we sometimes referred to you as _our_ Vitya, which she could explain as meaning because she was your parent and I was your guardian.”

“Are you still in love with her?” I ask, giving him a more serious look.

Yakov lets out a shuddering breath and closes his eyes, resting his chin on his hand.

“I told you that she’s just like you,” he answers, “Who could not still love her? Who could not love either one of you? You and Mirra are the family I always wanted, but could not have. I was able to bring you to live and train with me, but she remained with Modya for the sake of the other children…and eventually, she probably just believed that giving you to me was all she needed to do.”

“But you could probably convince her to leave him now,” I argue, “You said that you love her. You want us to be a family…”

“Vitya, I don’t think either you or I needs a scandal right now. You are going through recovery.”

“And how better to recover than with the help of my parents?” I demand, “Yakov…”

“You already tried to convince her, and she didn’t come.”

“I was stopped when Modya arrived. You could…”

“No,” he insists, “I promised Mirra that I would not go looking for her. She has the phone if she needs anything. She would call if she changed her mind.”

“Maybe she just doesn’t know that you still love her!” I exclaim, “Did you ever tell her?”

“What does that have to do with anything?” he huffs, “She knows to…”

“She knows you will help her, but does she know you love her?”

“Maybe it’s not good to put pressure on Yakov to do that if it’s not something he feels ready to do,” Stefan interjects gently, “Victor, if the two of them haven’t connected in all of this time, even after you went and tried to…”

“But she doesn’t know that Yakov really loves her that way! I know, if she knew that, she would come!” I shout.

“There’s a lot at work with her,” Stefan continues in a calm, quiet tone, “She has been with Modya Nikiforov for many years, so even though the children are gone, she may be feeling that she owes it to her husband to stay with him. After all, in marriage ceremonies, we do promise _for better of for worse_. I know you want your mother to be safe, and that your insistence comes from a good place, but we have to understand all of the forces at work and realize that this may not work out the way you want it to.”

“It doesn’t mean that we shouldn’t try,” I argue, “Yakov can still let the decision be hers, but I think it’s only fair to give her all of the facts, don’t you?”

“I think Victor has a point,” Yuuri adds, surprising me by speaking up on my behalf, “It would be different if she knew and decided already not to come, but she’s probably wondering if Yakov loves her, why he hasn’t just told her that, but has always just been a good friend. I think she might be confused.”

“I sure am!” I agree, “Yakov, you have the phone you gave her. Let me help you to make a message for her. I _know_ in my heart if you tell her how you feel, she will want us to come for her.”

It takes a little convincing, but in the end, the four of us put together something I think will definitely win her over.

_Mirra,_

_I know that I have always made it clear that I am a friend, and that I will always be there for you and Vitya, but I have failed to tell you that I still feel more than friendship for you. I know that I promised not to come to you. I let you go back to Modya without a fight, because you were worried about your other children. But, your children are grown and things are different. Vitya and I are here. We love you and we want you to come to us._

_We could be happy together._

_I know we really only ever talked much that one night when Modya threw you out of the car and left you on the side of the road, but I have never forgotten the beautiful girl who swept me off my feet and made me love her that quickly. I will respect if you want to stay with your husband, but if you feel as Vitya and I do about wanting to be a family, then just tell me that’s what you want, and we will find a way to bring you home._

_All my love,_

_Yakov_

“Well?” Yakov sighs, “What does everyone think?”

“I think it’s beautiful,” Yuuri answers, smiling sadly, “I hope it convinces her.”

“Me too,” I add.

“I think you did a good job of balancing her needs and yours, and you don’t seem to put pressure on her to decide quickly or without thought. She may need to think about it, so you might have to wait for an answer.”

“I just want her to be safe from that man,” Yakov says more solemnly, “I’ve protected our Vitya, but I haven’t been able to protect Mirra at all.”

“You may not have been able to protect her,” I tell him, moving to kneel on the floor in front of him, “but you never failed her and you never failed me.”

He looks down at me and shakes his head.

“But, I did fail to protect you, Vitya. That is why you are in recovery, because I failed to stop you from drinking too much.”

“No, I made my own bad decisions all along,” I insist, “You told me the right thing and I chose the wrong one. I promise I will get better, but right now, there is someone we both need to be thinking about. Go on, Father. Send it to her.”

Yakov scowls at me.

“You can’t call me that. It will cause all kinds of scandal!” he snaps.

I give him a grin and rest my head on his knee.

“Then, I promise I will only call you that in private…until you say it’s okay. Will you send it to her now?”

I feel one of Yakov’s warm hands come to rest on my head, and as we watch, he presses the _Send_ key.


	12. A Heart to Heart about Hair

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Victor and Yuuri share a passionate night at the resort.

It’s late when we say goodnight to Stefan and Yakov, and Yuuri and I head back to our suite. We’re surprised to spot Yurio in the hallway, walking towards us on the way to his room.

“Hey Yurio,” Yuuri says in a friendly voice, “What’re you doing up so late?”

“Isn’t there a curfew for kids under eighteen?” I snicker, “Better not let Yakov see you got out.”

“Shut it, Victor!” Yurio snaps, glaring at me, “And anyway, aren’t you supposed to go to bed earlier when you start getting old? What are _you_ doing up?”

“Oh, I don’t know,” I say, tapping my chin, “Maybe I’m thinking about what I’ll say to the press after I win the Russian Nationals.”

Yuuri bites his lip to hide a smile and Yurio actually growls.

“As if!” he spits furiously, “I’m not going to let some old, out of practice geezer like you beat me. I trashed katsudon in the Grand Prix Finals and I’ll trash you at nationals and _both of you_ at worlds!”

“I don’t think twelve hundredths of a point qualifies as trashing Yuuri,” I correct him, “although you did manage to win by the skin of your teeth. But you might recall that neither of your combined scores was close to what I earned in last year’s Grand Prix Finals, so I wouldn’t say you’ve got it in the bag or anything.”

“I took down your short program world record,” Yurio sneers, “and I’ll take down katsudon’s free skate record too!

“Oh, have you been drinking tonight? You must have been to be saying such nonsense,” I laugh, giving him an amused look, “You are still underage for that, you know.”

“And you are already a washed up _has been_ , Coach Victor!” Yurio scoffs, “Oh, you might not want to be talking to me about drinking too. You’re the one drinking and throwing things at people.”

I shoot him a dark look and he huffs arrogantly.

“Yeah, I saw you throwing a drink in that bastard, Andrei’s face the other day.”

I give a little shrug.

“He deserved it.”

“Well,” Yurio goes on, narrowing his eyes, “You both deserve the beating I’m going to give you. You’d better practice hard and at least make it some kind of challenge. I’m not busting my ass getting stronger to compete against a piggy and a has been. You’d better both be ready to compete with me. I don’t want you wasting my time!”

Yakov’s door opens and he sticks his head out and scowls at Yurio.

“What are you doing, running around out here at night? You know there’s a damned curfew! Go to bed!”

“I was getting some ice, old man!” Yurio yells back, “And I was already going back!”

Yuuri and I slip into our room while the two are still snapping at each other.

“Man, does that guy ever smile or say anything nice?” Yuuri sighs, “Although, he did share his pirozhkis with me that one time…after flattening me and yelling at me about my pathetic free skate at the Rostelecom Cup.”

“Yurio is a punk,” I chuckle, “but he’s a punk who has a heart. He tries hard to pretend he doesn’t, but it shows from time to time.”

“I don’t know how you put up with him,” Yuuri complains, “God, I don’t know how I’ll put up with him when I’m living in Saint Petersburg and training the same place he does.”

I give my lover a charming smile and put an arm around his waist, bringing him in for a long, wet kiss.

“You just concentrate on me and on skating your best,” I advise him, “Let me put Yurio in his place. I’ve been doing it for long enough. He doesn’t bother me so much because I know his bad behavior is just on the surface. Underneath, he’s just a cute, Russian kitten.”

“Hmph,” Yuuri huffs, dropping onto the bed, “somehow the words Yurio and cute Russian kitten just don’t go together for me.”

“Well,” I purr, climbing onto the bed and grabbing the front of Yuuri’s shirt to pull him closer to me, “I’ll tell you what does go together.”

He shivers and blushes as I lick his tender earlobe and give it a nibble.

“My Rrrrussian _monster_ and your cute little bottom!” I laugh, pouncing on him.

“Victor!” he gasps, giggling and blushing brightly as I start to undress him.

“What’s so funny?” I ask, tickling his belly.

“S-stop! Th-that tickles t-too much, Victor!”

“Then, you tell me why you’re laughing like that,” I say, smirking at him, while I continue to tug at our clothes.

“It’s nothing!” he insists, “I didn’t…”

“Oh, I don’t think I believe you,” I answer, sliding a hand down between his thighs, “You’d better tell me or I’ll think of something else to tickle.”

“Augh, s-stop!” he laughs uncontrollably as I tickle his testes and lean over him to lick a piqued nipple.

“Hmm, what was that? You’re going to tell me now, right?”

“N-no! I didn’t think anything!”

“Yes, you did. I could see it in your eyes. Be honest now and tell me what you were thinking.”

He pulls free of me, still panting with laughter.

“Okay! Okay, I’ll tell you. Geez!”

“What were you going to say?” I ask, pressing up against him.

He tries to answer, then blushes harder and laughs instead.

“Out with it, now. I don’t have all night. I’ve got training in the morning and so do you.”

“P-please Victor,” he pleads, laughing again, “D-don’t make me say it. I didn’t mean to think it. It just…jumped into my head.”

“Well, now you let it out of your mouth,” I prompt him.

“I can’t! I’m too embarrassed!”

“Sure you can. Here, whisper it in my ear, okay?” I say, leaning close to him.

It takes a couple of tries before he can stop laughing enough to tell me anything.

“W-well,” he whispers finally, “you said that yours was a Rrrrussian monster, so what does that make mine?”

He claps a hand over his mouth, holding his breath as we look at each other, then we both shout together.

“ _Katsuk-zilla_!”

For a moment, all of my stress over alcoholism, and the depression over my recovery and the problems with my mother fall away, and it’s just the two of us rolling around playfully on the bed.

“Keep that thing caged!” I laugh, “It’s dangerous, Yuuri.”

“I thought you said it was better than katsudon,” Yuuri teases, losing a little of his blush as he reaches down and wiggles his penis teasingly, “Don’t you want some, Vitya?”

It always trips me up when he switches to the name he uses more for me when we’re alone. That he does that makes it feel really special to hear from him. It gives me a throbbing in my loins and I really want to have sex with him now.

“I’m always hungry for you, _solnyshko_ ,” I answer, pushing his thighs apart and lying down between them.

I wrap my lips around his very swollen cock and he touches me under the chin, so I’m looking up into his aroused eyes while I suck him. He slides his fingers through my hair. Usually, I like it, but as he does, I’m suddenly distracted. Yuuri yelps as I release him and sit up, wearing a spooked expression.

“V-victor?” he says anxiously, “Are you all right?”

“Eh…I don’t know. Now, I’m worried, Yuuri,” I confess.

It’s funny, but it’s also not very funny at all.

Yuuri pulls me up against him, forgetting entirely that we were in the middle of playing with each other.

“What’s wrong?” he asks, sympathetically, “Are you still worrying about your mom? Yakov said that he would let you know as soon as she answered him, didn’t he?”

“Yes. Yes, he did, but it’s not about that.”

“Okay, then are you worried because Stefan is leaving tomorrow? Or is it that I’m leaving soon to go back to Japan?”

“Well, I wasn’t worried about those things right then, but now that you mention them…”

“Then, what was worrying you, Victor? You seemed fine until…”

I take his hands and make his fingers slide through my hair.

“Does it feel any thinner to you?” I ask.

“Huh?” he muses, giving me a confused look, “Your hair? No, it feels just as thick as ever. Why?”

I give him a meaningful look.

“Oh!” he realizes, “Because Yakov…”

I cover his mouth to stop him.

“Just tell me the truth, okay? It’s still thick and shiny?”

“ _Baka_!” he laughs, grabbing me, “It’s very thick and so shiny it could blind me. Stop worrying about your hair, Victor. You’re being silly!”

“Oh, says the person whose father _doesn’t_ have pattern baldness!” I argue, “It’s a perfectly logical fear, don’t you think?”

“I’m sure you already would have started losing your hair if you were going to.”

“Don’t say that!”

“Sorry!”

He hugs me and runs his fingers through my hair on both sides, then sits back and looks at his hands.

“See? Not a single hair came out. You’re fine. Will you stop worrying? Besides, even Victor with no hair at all would still be beautiful.”

“No,” I laugh shaking my head, “I would not, you liar!”

“I’m not lying!” Yuuri objects, and before I can say anything back, he pushes me down on my back and falls on top of me, pinning me down and looking into my eyes, “You know, Victor, there is something that you got from Yakov.”

His voice is serious now, and his eyes look soft and beautiful.

“It’s not your hair,” he goes on, “or your eyes or your…”

“My skater’s ass?”

“Nope, not that either.”

“Then, what?” I ask, “What did I get from him. You’re not going to say I have a bad temper.”

“You don’t…although you do give a pretty good scolding.”

“Yuuri!”

“But…none of that is what you get from your father,” he says, caressing my cheek, “What you get from your father is something that can’t even be seen, and most of the time, you wouldn’t know he had it. But, he gave it to you and you show it to me all of the time.”

“What?” I laugh, “You think the Rrrrussian monster comes from him?”

“Um…” Yuuri manages, flushing bright red, “I…wouldn’t know about that.”

His face takes on a loving expression.

“What I do know is that, just like Yakov, you have a big, sweet, fat…”

“Yuuri!”

“Squishy, cuddly…”

“What?” I demand.

“loving, caring heart.”

_Oh…_

“Vitya’s big, sweet, fat, squishy, cuddly, loving, caring heart is why he left everything behind to come to Hasetsu and coach me. It’s why he took time from his own career to help me become the skater he knew I could be. It’s why he protected his mother when his father was cruel to her, and why he went back to help her when he felt she was in danger. Your heart that you got from Yakov is beautiful, Vitya, so you will always be beautiful, no matter what.”

I feel tears building up in my eyes and rub them while I try to turn my head away.

“Yuuri, don’t say things like that! You’ll make me cry.”

“Yeah,” he agrees, brushing away a tear that escaped my fingers, “that’s the thing about having a big, beautiful heart like that. Sometimes it gets wrenched and sometimes it gets broken, but when it does, I’ll always be there for you…just like you’re there for me.”

He pauses and his smile warms.

“I guess you got that from Yakov too. You know how to be there for the people you love.”

“Yuuri…”

I pull him down into a long, passionate kiss and moan into his mouth as he dampens his fingers with lubricant, then slides them down my body, seeking my entrance, then making it impossible for me to even talk to him at all. His fingers plunge inside me, thrusting and stretching the sensitive tissues, then he finds that wonderful place inside and caresses it, still busying my groaning mouth with hard, loving kisses. He only touches my thigh lightly and I spread my legs for him shamelessly. My hips push upward as he starts to make his entry. It still hurts a little, but he puts a hand on my hip to hold me still so it doesn’t hurt more as he pushes all of the way inside me.

I’m so impatient. I never like to wait, even though I know I should give my body more time to adjust to him. I just want to feel him moving on top of me. I want to feel his mouth biting relentlessly at mine. I want to feel the head of his cock rubbing that place so deep inside me that no one’s ever touched but him.

Finally, I can’t take the waiting anymore, and I flip him onto his back and mount him. I hear Yuuri laugh and the sound goes straight to my hungry loins, making me thrust, hard and fast against him. He meets me without hesitation now, raising his hips to meet mine, then sliding a hand in between us and giving my Rrrrussian monster something to really purr about. I finally feel just as beautiful as Yuuri says I am, as climax sends our still undulating bodies into heavy, delicious shudders and Yuuri’s melting heat fills me. My own release spills out onto our sweaty skin. I collapse onto Yuuri’s chest, panting and quivering, my hair messy and my lips smiling contentedly.

I fall asleep with Yuuri still penetrating me, and wake up again awhile later to find that he’s hardening again and looks hungry for more of my love. I’ve been at the higher elevation for a few days now, so my stamina’s a little better this time. We finish a second round and sleep for longer, before waking and having sex a third time, but switching roles. But, by the fourth time, I’m out of breath quickly and feeling dizzy…and he can’t wake me for a fifth joining.

“I guess Vitya still needs to work on his stamina,” he whispers, kissing me on the cheek.

I groan sleepily and wrap a hand around his cock, giving him pleasure, while not even waking completely. Finally, my katsudon is satisfied and he stays asleep, letting me drop off again as well.

For the first time since that awful night in Barcelona, I sleep with only good dreams. I dream about Yuuri and me skating and making love. I dream of opening the door to my Saint Petersburg home and finding my mother waiting on the doorstep. I dream of winning gold again in the upcoming competitions, and then, I dream of a beautiful wedding, where Yakov marries my mother and Yuuri marries me. It’s so beautiful that I don’t want to wake up at all. I sleep well past my usual waking time and earn a scolding from Yakov when I show up late to practice and still looking half asleep.

He doesn’t stay angry for long when I start to skate. My jumps are spot on, my spins are perfect, and my stamina is better on the ice as well. I see Yurio stealing glances at me, and a smile snaking across his lips.

I’m filled so full with love and with inspiration.

I’m going to fucking _kill_ at nationals.


	13. Rebuilding From the Core

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Victor says goodbye to Yuuri and heads to the Russian Nationals.

It’s really hard for me when the time comes for Yuuri to go back to Japan. Even if I wasn’t worried because we’ve not yet received word of my mother’s decision (She texted back to Yakov how much she loves him for being so good to her, but she said that there is a lot to think about. She’s worried that if she leaves Modya, my siblings won’t forgive her. She also worries about Modya hurting Yakov or me. He’s been quiet and moody, she says, since our confrontation. She’s been walking on eggshells around him to keep him from getting set off.), there are still flutters in the air showing doubts about my return to skating amidst the rumors of alcoholism, depression and (I don’t know where they got this), a possible nervous breakdown. Mooroka and my good French newscaster friend, Stephan, have gone easy in their speculation, but there is a crucial interview that will take place upon my arrival in Moscow for nationals. But even with all of that circling around me, what makes me the saddest is when Maccachin and I accompany Yuuri to the airport and have to leave him at the terminal entrance.

“It’s less than a week now,” he reminds me, hugging me tightly, “In just a few days, when your competition is over, you’ll be coming to Japan to see my free skate and to arrange for our move to Saint Petersburg.”

_That’s right. This is just a short separation. And when we meet again, we will be moving in together. Yuuri has already begun taking care of the paperwork for residing in Russia for the long term. He has begun to pack what things he’d like to have with him. When he moved to Detroit, he still thought of Hasetsu as his home. But for Yuuri, just like for me, home has become something quite different…it’s not a place anymore, but a state we reach only when we’re together._

“You eat well, get lots of rest and remember, just fine tuning now. Your programs look beautiful. You’ve worked hard and it really shows.”

“Thanks, Victor,” he says, blushing.

“Call me every day, okay?”

“I have to conference with you for some training anyway,” he chuckles.

“Call me after, too.”

“I will, I promise.”

“And call me right before your short program.”

“Okay, Victor,” he laughs, “I will.”

“I’ll see you for your free skate,” I promise him.

Yuuri tears up a little, but he nods and we exchange a last tight hug and a tender kiss goodbye. He looks down at Maccachin, who is bracing his upper body against Yuuri’s leg and whining.

“I’ll see you when I come to live with you and Victor in Saint Petersburg.”

“I love you, Yuuri.”

“Love you too, Vitya,” he whispers in my ear.

I don’t want to let go of him, but I make myself release him and I watch as he walks away to his gate. I hear Macca whimper and look down at him.

“Well, at least for you, it means you’ll have more of my attention, _da_? So, what are you complaining about? Come on. Yakov and Yurio are waiting for us.”

After seeing Yuuri off, I go back to the resort and we all pack our things. We’ve decided to go straight on to Moscow, which will give us a couple of days to settle in and get ready for the competition.

We arrive and find a media circus awaiting us.

“Victor, how are you feeling? Do you think you’ll be up to the demands of competition after the long break?”

“Tell us something about how things are going for you. Do you have anything to say about the Skate Magazine’s article speculating on rumors that you’re recovering from alcohol abuse?”

The questions come in from all directions, but I’m very good at smiling at the friendly faces and letting Yakov speak for me. Yurio looks like he’d rather be anywhere but near me with all of this going on, and he slips away to go and see his grandpa. Yakov and I wade through the crowd and catch a ride to the hotel. There’s another group of reporters waiting there, but Yakov just tells them I’ll make no comment until the evening interview.

Once we’re settled in, I touch bases with Yuuri to make sure all is going well with him, then the rest of the time before the interview, Yakov spends grouching at me about what to say and what not to say. We carefully prepare for any off beat or invasive questions, but I’m pretty sure I don’t have to worry about them, because it will be my friends Mooroka and Stephan conducting the interview.

As we’re getting closer to the time, someone taps on the door and Yakov opens it to find Stefan outside.

“Stefan, what are you doing here?” I ask happily, giving him a welcoming hug, “I thought you went back to Saint Petersburg!”

“I did,” he tells me, “but I got a call from Yakov that you were doing an interview and he wanted some guidance on things to have to you say and how to keep you relaxed.”

“ _Spasibo_!” I laugh, kissing him on both cheeks, “You are just what I need.”

The three of us spend the time up to the interview going over everything I am going to say, and just as Yakov is letting in the two reporters, I take Stefan aside for a private talk.

“I was thinking,” I tell him, “Since I am going to talk about my alcoholism, do you think you could be there for me to answer some of the questions too? What I want more than anything is to reassure my fans that I am resolving my problems, and that I am currently in good form for competing.”

“I think you are ready for competition,” Stefan agrees, “and I’m happy to be there for you, if you want me there.”

“I do.”

It doesn’t take long for everything to be set up and for Yakov to give me a last few instructions about what to say and what not to say. Then, he and Stefan sit down on one side of me and Mooroka and the French newscaster, Stephan, sit on the other side to begin the interview.

“They’ll be coming to us in a minute,” Mooroka tells us, “Just take a breath and relax, okay? Stephan and I are here to make sure your story gets told the way you want to tell it.”

“Thank you.”

The red light on the recorder goes on and Mooroka begins.

“We’re here at the Star Hotel in Moscow, for a private interview with returning star figure skater, Victor Nikiforov. Appearing with Nikiforov, are Coach Yakov Feltsman and Victor’s private counselor, Stefan Antonovich.”

He turns his attention to me.

“Greetings Victor. You must know how excited your fans have been about your return to skating. Tell us, how are you feeling about your return?”

“I’m happy to be coming back,” I tell him, “The truth is, I never intended my departure to be a permanent one. I only left, because I needed to think about the path for continuing my career as a figure skater, and I decided that the best way to find that path was to pursue the development of Yuuri Katsuki, who caught my attention through the viral video of him performing my own free skate.”

“That was some performance,” Stephan adds, “We interviewed a number of people in the business who said that if Yuuri Katsuki could overcome his anxiety, he could certainly compete with the likes of you and Russia’s other shining star, Yuri Plisetsky.”

“I also saw Yuuri’s potential, and while I was training with him in Hasetsu, I found that inspiration that I was looking for, for myself as well.”

“You sure brought out the best in Yuuri Katsuki,” Mooroka says appreciatively, “But it seems that although you found the inspiration you needed, you’ve faced some serious troubles at the same time. What can you tell us about that?”

“What I can tell you is that I have struggled with a few things, and I have engaged Stefan Antonovich as a personal counselor.”

“And what exactly is the condition or what are the conditions for which you are being treated?” Stephan asks.

“I am currently being given counseling for alcoholism,” I answer.

_The depression isn’t something I’m ready to talk about yet._

“I’ve always been someone who enjoys alcohol in my free time, but living in a sort of closed environment in Saint Petersburg, with Yakov hanging over my shoulder and keeping an eye on me all of the time, I didn’t really drink to the extent that I did while I was on my own in Hasetsu. I started to drink more and didn’t set limits for myself that I should. It happens to a lot of people, and it often leads to people needing help like the help I’m getting from my personal counselor.”

“Can you tell us anything about the incident in Barcelona? I know you and Yakov have not spoken publicly about what happened and a lot of people have spread different accounts. What really happened that night? Can you tell us?”

“Victor isn’t going to discuss the specifics of what led him to act out that night,” Yakov says, “That is private, but he does want to make clear that what he did was irresponsible.”

“Yakov is right,” I agree, “There was something going on in my personal life that was difficult for me, at the time.”

“Did it have to do with Yuuri Katsuki?” Mooroka asks.

“I’d rather not say. But, I will say that when I was faced with emotional upset, I made a poor choice. I chose to drink to make the emotions go away, but I ended up overdoing it and I could have killed myself. When I realized that, I knew that this was a serious problem and I owed it to myself and everyone who has always supported me to get the help I needed, so that I could recover from my addiction.”

“And what about the personal issue?” Stephan asks, “Has this been resolved, or could it interfere again?”

“I don’t think it’s the specific personal issue that matters,” I answer, glancing at Stefan, who gives me a little nod, “You see, a person who uses alcohol or any other substance to escape emotional upset or other things is just going to find other things that make them want to drink. Nobody’s life is perfect, so there will always be pressure of this kind or that kind. It’s not avoiding that, it’s learning how to face it without using any drug.”

“Victor has come a long way in a short time,” Stefan interjects, “I’ve spent some time really getting to know him, and I’ve found that he is a strong person, who follows through on his commitments. He is surrounded by people who love him and who support him. Victor is not hesitant to ask for their help, and that is making a big difference in his recovery. I can say without hesitation that he is ready for this competition, and more than that, he is well on the way to recovery.”

“That is good to hear,” Mooroka says approvingly, “and we sure are anxious to see what happens in the Russian Nationals. Speaking of that, Victor, we’ve heard a lot from skater Andrei Fedkin, about what he sees as his opportunity to prove himself against you and Yuri Plisetsky. What are your thoughts on that?”

“Hmm, well, Andrei is a good skater,” I answer, “but he has a tendency to both underestimate his opponents and overestimate his own ability.”

“Ouch,” Stephan chuckles, “sounds like there is some rivalry there, no?”

“Yeah,” I chuckle, “some.”

“We heard that the two of you had an altercation in a restaurant at the resort where you were staying this week. Can you say something about that?”

I give a little shrug.

“It was just some immature games between rivals,” I reply, shaking my head, “It doesn’t mean anything.”

“But you threw a hot drink in his face?” Mooroka says, frowning, “That sounds like more than just immature games.”

“It wasn’t like that at all, actually,” I answer calmly, “First of all, it was his drink I threw in his face. I was just giving it back to him, and secondly, it was only lukewarm. I would never do anything I know would hurt someone. Andrei is a rival, so we are going to have quarrels. It’s the nature of things, but it’s nothing really.”

The rest of the interview goes smoothly, and soon Stephan and Mooroka as well as their photographer and cameraman, leave the room. I give a sigh of relief and head over to get a glass of water. I notice the alcoholic drinks in the hotel’s small refrigerator, but I don’t even feel tempted. Then again, I’m not under so much stress, now that the interview is over. I fill a glass with ice and look back at Stefan.

“Would you like some tea, coffee or water, Stefan?” I ask.

“Water’s good, thanks,” he answers.

I get our drinks as Yakov heads off to his room, and I sit down with Stefan to talk.

“You handled yourself well on TV,” he compliments me, “I guess its hard being a celebrity and having to deal with all of this being talked about publicly. Still, you should know that by talking about your experience, by opening up, you’re not just giving yourself motivation to keep moving forward, you’re also motivating other people to _come forward_ , to realize that they also have the same problem. You’re doing something really good, Victor.”

I give him a conflicted look.

“You don’t agree?” he asks.

“I don’t know,” I admit, “I mean, I do see how it could be helpful, seeing that people like me are subject to the same struggles as everyone else, but at the same time, everyone around us tells us all of the time that we can’t be like everyone else. We are supposed to be good role models. And while some people will take the message that I want to give them, some might see my failure and my addiction as a reason to play down the seriousness of their own. I mean, if Victor Nikiforov can drink himself nearly to death and still just come back and be like nothing happened, then…”

“Do you think when you finish recovery, it’s going to be _like nothing ever happened_ , Victor?” he asks, giving me a measured look.

“No,” I answer with certainty, “at least, it won’t be for me. I don’t know what people will see, looking from the outside in.”

“Well, your attitude is definitely going to help,” he tells me, putting a hand on mine, “So, have you had enough time to consider your options for treatment?”

“I have, but I’ve only gone as far as deciding that I definitely want you to accompany me through the skating season. I think you’re right that I will need your guidance during that time, rather than just waiting until the end of the season to start anything.”

“I think that’s a really wise decision,” Stefan says, nodding, “and I’m prepared to stay during the national competition right now, if you want to have me here.”

“Are you kidding? That would be great,” I laugh, “I won’t have just grouchy old Yakov and that crabby Yurio to hang out with. By the way, are you hungry?”

“Me? Well, yes, it is getting to be that time,” he says, looking at his watch.

“Why don’t we go and get something to eat? Yakov said he’s busy and Yurio is seeing his grandpa, so I don’t have anyone to go with.”

“That sounds good,” he agrees, “Where would you like to go?”

I take him to a restaurant that’s run by an old couple who’ve had their place in the same spot, serving the same wonderful traditional foods forever. It’s close, so we can just walk, although we have to dress warm for the cold weather. As we walk, I ask him about his own struggles with alcohol, and to my surprise, he seems fine with sharing.

“I started drinking as kind of a thing that my coworkers just did to chill out and wind down after working all day,” he tells me, “I was married to a girl who was really sweet. We went to school together growing up, and our families liked each other, so when she said she wanted to be more serious, I just kind of went along with her. I didn’t realize at the time that it wasn’t what I really wanted. I knew that the fact that I liked boys was going to be a problem for my traditional parents, and so I did what I thought everybody wanted. But…then we were going to have a baby, and I guess I got scared. I was living this pretty cool life that had plenty of good things in it, but the truth was…I felt like that life should have belonged to someone else, not me. I got depressed and I started to drink more often and stay out later. One night, I came home and my wife said she was in labor. I thought I was all right to drive, but it turned out that I wasn’t. I lost control of the car and we hit a tree. We both survived, but the baby was lost…because I wasn’t as in control of myself as I should have been.”

“Wow,” I breathe softly, putting a hand on his arm, “I had no idea. It must have been terrible after.”

“My wife was so devastated that she never even spoke to me again. She left and sent divorce papers. I didn’t even fight it. I lost my job a few weeks later and bills piled up. In the end, I lost everything. I went to recovery more because I had nowhere else to go. My parents were humiliated and I was completely lost. I didn’t know what to do, so I hit bottom. I came to stay at the recovery center and I stayed there for a long program of recovery that wasn’t just for alcohol abuse. I also learned how to be more honest with myself and with the people in my life. I finally told my parents that I’m gay. It didn’t go over so well, but I was glad after. Even though they kind of drifted away, I did meet Filip, and I found a new job at the recovery center and a place to live.”

“It sounds like you’ve really been through a lot.”

He gives me a little smile.

“I have, but there’s something important I have to do now. I feel comfortable in my own skin, in the life I’ve chosen and the people who I share it with. I’ve decided that right now, I want to bring you into that life and do what I can to help you. It’s not just for you, Victor. Helping other people avoid the disaster I made of my life means that everything I’ve suffered and all of the suffering I caused everyone around me…well, it wasn’t for nothing.”

“Well, I am grateful,” I tell him, turning to hug him, “Thank you for working so hard to see I’m successful. I’ll do my best.”

“I know you will,” he answers, hugging me back tightly, “That’s why I chose to go to some lengths to help you.”


	14. Love, Lies and Vengeance: The Short Program

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Russian Nationals begin.

It feels really different in some ways, returning to the ice after the longest break in my entire skating career. It’s been eight months, and in one way, that’s not a very long time, but to a figure skater, it can be like an age, because our competitive years don’t last for very long. For most of my life, I expected the frenetic pace of the skating season, and I made the pace of my life in the off season as busy as I could so that I always felt like I was running somewhere. That was my definition of life. For the past five years, it’s also been my definition of love, because I had no romantic love, only my love for performance.

Going to Hasetsu changed everything for me. I got to see that life doesn’t have to be about running from place to place, performing, giving interviews and training. It’s good sometimes to slow down, to breathe more deeply and to appreciate more of the things the world has to offer. I was lucky to be able to experience those things in Japan. Now, as I return to the life I led before, I have a bit more perspective. I know that although I do love skating, there are other things…and there are important people I love too.

There are still some things that are the same.

I do love waking up the morning of the competition and feeling the little surge of adrenalin because it’s a competition day. I love the brisk air as I walk in the morning, stretching out and feeling the readiness in my body for the exertion that will occur later in the day. I can’t help but smile a lot when the time comes to put on the new costume for my performance, a lovely, fluttering creation in soft grey tones that symbolizes the theme of my performance…innocent lies that we tell for the best possible reasons. I’m calm and smiling as I walk beside Yakov,, Stefan, Yurio, Georgi and Milla, heading into the event center with cameras flashing all around us. It does feel very, very good when I’m spotted entering the rink and cheers begin to rise from the already gathering crowd in the stands. There’s a lot of anticipation about my return and that has brought new excitement to the atmosphere inside.

Yakov leads us to the skaters’ warm up area and we wait as our positions are drawn. Georgi draws a spot in the first group, while Yurio draws the next to last spot and I draw the last. We separate to warm up and Yakov stays close to Georgi and Yurio, while Stefan helps me with my stretching and guides me in a meditation meant to promote mindfulness, being in the present, proper focus and the like. It’s not that I feel nervous. I’ve gotten to where I don’t feel the pressure so much right before a performance. I feel it leading up to entering the arena, but when I get there, it’s all business as usual. I don’t really get anxious like Yuuri does. I do get an energy rush from the excitement, however, and the meditation makes sure that energy is focused on the right things.

Some skaters don’t watch the other performances, because it messes with their confidence. As a very experienced skater, and someone who loves to see another person’s stunning performance as well as his own, I watch the other performances because I want to see what everyone is doing. I suppose it’s in my nature to want to experience what the other skaters have prepared. I like being entertained.

Georgi, as usual, puts on an enjoyable show. He may not have made the Grand Prix Finals this year, but he’s certainly a top performer, who cares as much about presentation as he does about whether he wins or not. His style is over the top…very Georgi.

I don’t see Andrei until the beginning of the second group, but I have to admit that his dark red and black costume is perfect for his theme, which is _Vengeance_. His short program embodies the aspect of betrayal that demands vengeance, and it’s filled with larger, powerful motions, fierce expressions and eye catching spins. He paces himself well, putting his more difficult quad lutz at the end of the first half and leaving the other jumps for the middle of the second half of his program. Everything has a lot of polish and he manages to take a slight lead over the men in the first group. He’s the first person to skate in the second group and Yurio follows him.

I watch on the monitor as Yurio performs his Agape program, and he is in good form from beginning to end. His execution is not at the level it was for the Grand Prix Final, so his score, while in the hundreds, is not close to his world record, but it is enough to give him a good lead over the field and it sets the stage for me as I head out to the rink entrance. Yakov holds me back until Yurio’s performance has ended, so that the roar of the crowd as I enter doesn’t take away from the excitement over his scores. He’s done well, so there is a good reaction, but that is dwarfed by the sound that rises up with the curtain is drawn back and I head for the ice.

Stefan gives me an encouraging nod and Yakov holds a hand on my shoulder until it’s time for me to head out to center ice. There’s a lot of anticipation. Yurio, Georgi and Andre have all put in good performances, so I have my work cut out for me. Remembering that they have all been performing their programs for a full season, they are well used to what they are doing and have refined it over time. This is my first performance in eight months and I am performing brand new material. It’s not something just anyone could or would try to do, but putting myself at a disadvantage gives me the thing I thirst for most in competition…a chance to surprise everyone, this time by putting in a first time performance that looks like a more polished late season one.

A polished look isn’t the only surprise I have planned, not by a longshot. There are two specific things that have changed in my performances. The first is that I have added the quad loop to my free skate program. It’s in the beginning of the second half, placed after the first half quad flip that my fans are expecting to see. The second surprise is that while I was training with Yuuri, I studied and practiced his way of executing the step sequence, improving my own substantially. And finally, I have added difficulty to both programs by employing raised arms in some places to add difficulty. I can’t change the fact that Yurio’s body is smaller and more flexible than mine, but I can certainly outshine him on difficulty and smooth execution.

He is about to find out just how much he’ll have to practice to beat me in a competition. Honestly, the motivation he’ll get from today may be enough for him to do that, but right now, there is no chance for him.

There is a hush that comes over the arena as I take my place and the music begins. I start my program wearing a downcast expression, and averting my eyes. My body is in a closed position, with crossed arms and legs, as though holding back a secret. The music and moves radiate with the tenderness of love that makes us lie to protect, to soothe, to comfort. The step sequence is difficult, not because of the speed of execution, but because of the positioning of my body and the changes of direction. My spin combination brings instant applause and the quad flip sets the arena on fire.

I’m usually beginning to tire as the second half commences, but the training I did at the higher elevation seems to have had the desired effect. Or, maybe it’s the adrenalin, because I feel challenged by Yurio’s fine execution of the Agape program I made for him. I have to admit it’s hard to beat, and if his performance tonight had been anywhere near as polished as his Grand Prix Finals performance, I would be in trouble. But something I picked up on about Yurio is that he underestimates me. Maybe because he has trained alongside me for awhile, he thinks that knowing how I approach competition will give him an edge when we compete. He sees Yuuri as more of a threat because Yuuri changed so much this season and he is younger than me. But overconfidence tends to undo younger upstarts like Yurio, and I can almost see his pissed expression as I execute a clean quad combination, a final quad and a final spin combination that radiates the energy of the one at the end of Eros, and sets off the crowd again.

That is the essence of competition. It’s never bad to notice and appreciate the best qualities of one’s opponents. In fact, learning from an opponent who does something better than I do so that I can build on my strengths, is how I will remain a top talent. Up to now, I never bothered to go farther than to make sure my step sequences and spins were executed cleanly. Now, I use what I learned during my stay in Hasetsu to make them memorable. I’m sure Yuuri will see that when he watches this, and I hope he realizes that it wasn’t just me who gave something to him while I was coaching him, he was helping me to improve my performance too.

As the music ends, the arena erupts in cheers and applause, and I happily acknowledge the compliment before heading to the kiss and cry…where Yakov, as usual, complains that I could have done better, that the flow of my movements needs work, that I looked tired in the second half and he didn’t see that the high elevation training did a bit of good. He quiets as my scores are announced. They’re high, although not as high as when I was peaking last season. But they do lift me over Yurio, Andrei and Georgi. Yurio and Andrei have a fighting chance, especially if I don’t land that quad loop in my free skate, so I have my work cut out for me.

“Hey Victor,” Yurio calls out to me as we head back into the skaters’ preparation area.

I give him a big smile.

“What’s up, Yurio? Your Agape was good tonight, although it wasn’t quite as well executed as when you were competing against Yuuri in the Grand Prix Finals.”

“I’m going to kill you in the free skate, old geezer!” he huffs.

“Are you?” I ask, tilting my head and giving him an amused look, “Why don’t we just think about that? My score on an average day is well above your personal best in the free skate this season, so you are going to have to do more than skate cleanly and add raised arms here or there to beat me. Maybe you should put your focus on your PCS to try to do it. If you do, you might stand a chance.”

“Augh, shut up, loser!” he yells, stomping past me.

“Yuri!” Yakov snaps at him.

“He’s got a real temper on him,” Stefan chuckles, “But I’m curious. You, um, do know that the way you talk to him is actually motivating him to do better, right?”

“Yes, I know that.”

He gives me a curious look.

“Some competitors are in the competition solely to win,” I explain, “while for others, it’s the beauty and fun of the sport. Then, there are people like me who love the sport, but who also like to be challenged. At the end of last season, I was on top of the skating world. There was no one who could equal me, and it was the loneliest I’ve ever been.”

“Really?” he muses.

“Yes, really,” I affirm, “I don’t just want to be a top skater, I want to have to push myself to rise to greater heights. I won’t get there if I’m not challenged.”

Stefan smiles.

“So, what you’re telling me is that your break from skating was about doing that? About creating a challenge for yourself?”

I give him a little shrug.

“It was also about developing Yuuri’s skating and giving Yurio something to fight for. But yes, in the end, I wanted them to skate at their best, because I knew that if they did, it would motivate me to train harder.”

His look grows even more curious.

“And it doesn’t bother you that both Yurio and Yuuri toppled your individual program world records?”

I have to laugh at that.

“That was a little annoying, but if they didn’t do that, I would only continue breaking my own records, until that wasn’t enough to motivate me anymore. Besides, I still hold the world record for the highest overall performance score. Neither Yurio nor Yuuri has beaten that. And if they do, I will push myself harder.”

“Well, you look amazing when you skate. There’s no doubting that. My partner, Filip watches figure skating pretty closely. I’ve been watching with him and it looks like, well…a lot of fun, but also like it must be very tiring, doing all of those jumps and spins.”

“It can be exhausting,” I agree, “but there’s nothing like it. Have you ever tried ice skating?”

“Me?” he says, looking surprised, “No, never.”

I give a little laugh and narrow my eyes.

“Well, that just won’t do. If you are expecting to be _my_ counselor, then you need to have at least a basic understanding of figure skating.”

“Oh, I don’t know…”

“Your feet look pretty close to my size,” I notice.

I look around and find my bag with my extra training skates. Stefan watches with a sort of befuddled expression as I sit him down and tie the skates in place, then take his hands and help him up.

“Are you sure we should be doing this?” he asks, looking around.

“Sure, it’s fine,” I answer, leading him to the ice and taking his blade covers off, “Come on, now.”

As I turn to the put the blade covers down, I hand my phone to Yakov.

“Record this, okay?” I request.

“What?”

“Just do it,” I insist, “His partner will get a kick out of it.”

I coax him onto the ice and he instantly starts to fall.

“Oh!” he gasps, “I don’t think I’m cut out for this.”

“You’re fine,” I laugh, “It’s like that for everyone, at first. I entered the ice that way the first time too. Just let me help you a little.”

I bring him to his feet and stay with him, steadying him as he gets used to holding himself upright. Then, I capture his hands and pull him forward while I skate backwards in front of him.

“Just move your left foot a little, then your right. Feel your weight shifting.”

“O-oh, I think maybe I…yikes!”

I catch him as he falls again.

“You’re doing great!” I giggle, “Come on, let’s try something else.”

I get him on his feet and turn him so that he’s facing away from me, then I put an arm around his waist and hold his extended arm with my other hand.

“Trust me, okay?” I tell him as I kick off into a fast forward motion, bringing him with me.

“Trust you? Victor!” he gasps, stiffening.

“Relax, I’m holding you. Trust me. You don’t have to do anything. Just let me do the work.”

He still looks petrified, at first. But as we gain speed and turn, a slow smile spreads across his face.

“This is…!”

“I know, right?” I say cheerfully

“It’s like flying!” he laughs, “And you get to do this for a living?”

“Well, believe me, it’s not so easy when you do this for hours every day and get yelled at a lot for doing things wrong, even when you win the competition. Still, I wouldn’t give this up for _anything_!”

“I can see why,” he says appreciatively as I guide us back to the rink entrance.

He steps off the ice and shakes his head in wonder.

“That was fun,” he says, “I don’t think I’ve had that much fun in a very long time. You know, Filip’s been wanting to go ice skating for a date, but I was worried about falling down and looking stupid in front of him.”

“But that’s half the fun, isn’t it? Playing and trying new things together? There was a lot I hadn’t experienced, because I’ve spent more than twenty years focusing on skating, but when I went to Hasetsu, Yuuri introduced me to hot springs and pork cutlet bowls, walking on the beach with a loved one…sharing whole days together. I never had any of that before. When I moved to the dorms at the ice center, everything was about skating or sneaking out and misbehaving.”

Yakov taps my arm and hands me my cell phone. I look down at it and send the recording.

“Now, we’ve made a perfect thing for you to show your Filip. You just had your very first skating lesson with Victor Nikiforov.”

Stefan watches as the recording shows up on his phone and he plays it back. I watch with him, then I touch the screen to pause at the part where he said he was flying. His eyes brighten again, remembering.

“You see that?” I ask him, “That is a look of pure joy. I think you should go on that skating date with Filip.”

“You think so? You don’t think I’ll look stupid?”

“No. You will look adorably like a beginning skater, but Filip will love you for looking that way in front of him. It’s like when Yuuri and I practice together, and I don’t mind letting him see me fall sometimes. Being that comfortable with someone is a beautiful feeling, _da_?”

“It is,” Stefan agrees, looking down at his phone and smiling.

He pauses and his face takes on a mixture of sadness and guilt.

“Are you all right?” I ask, “Did I say something that upset you?”

“No,” he reassures me, “I was…just thinking about my ex-wife. I mean, we were friends, and I did care about her. I tried to make her happy, but I did that by giving her things. Pretty jewelry, cute lingerie, things like that. But we really didn’t do things like this together…new or different things that the other person liked. I feel like we didn’t know each other. She sure never guessed that I was a closeted homosexual. I can’t help but feel bad about that.”

“We all make mistakes,” I remind him, “Isn’t that what you said to me when I was talking to you the first time? And didn’t you say that knowing you have a problem and working towards a resolution and a new start was how I was going to get better?”

“Wow, I wasn’t sure you were listening,” he confides, “You looked pretty lost that day.”

“I was,” I admit, “I had just disappointed myself and, even worse, someone who has loved me like his own son for…”

I stop and glance at Yakov, who scowls at me and gives me a look that clearly means he wants me to shut up, then I look back at Stefan, who smiles at the secret there.

“Come on, Victor,” Yakov scolds me, “That’s enough playing around. We need to get back to the hotel and eat something.”

We take off our skates and head out of the rink, ignoring Andrei as he gives us a condescending look.

“Counseling, huh?” he mutters as we leave, “Looks like it’s getting _very_ personal, doesn’t it?”


	15. The Heartstorm

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An unexpected emergency brings Victor's loved ones to his side.

It’s early the next morning that I wake to the whistle of wind and a rattling of the windows in my hotel room. I look out and even though the sun should be rising, there is just semi-darkness and swirling snow outside. I pick up my phone to check the forecast and sigh at finding that what I see is going to last all day. Even worse, as the morning goes on, I can’t get a proper signal, so the time for calling Yuuri before his short program comes and goes. Internet is down too, because of the storm’s ferocity, and a voice comes over the intercom, warning us not to use the elevators, because of the chance of power disruptions.

“Damn it. Yuuri…”

_I don’t want him to feel alone._

I try a landline instead and manage to get a poorly connected call that makes him sound twice as far away as he is.

“Victor?” he calls through the phone nervously.

“Yuuri, I’m sorry. The storm is pretty bad here. I just wanted to tell you I’m thinking of you. I know you’ll do well in your short program.”

“Thanks,” he sighs, “That means a lot to me.”

“I wish I could I could talk for longer, but I know you have to go. Just…do your best. I’m with you. Yuuri. You’re going to be fine.”

“I will,” he promises.

The power goes out just as we finish our call. It flickers and comes on again, but it keeps going on and off for the rest of the day. Yakov and the others stop by and we go downstairs to the Mezzanine for a cold lunch that the hotel provides to everyone who is pretty much trapped there. It’s a long climb back up the stairs, and when I reach my room, I struggle with my phone and laptop in vain to try to learn what happened in Yuuri’s short program. Communications are out for the rest of the day, so I end up going to sleep early, not even knowing if our free program will be able to take place the next day.

When we wake, the worst of the storm seems to have passed and I get through to Yuuri just after the morning public practice.

“Yuuri! How did your short program go?” I ask anxiously.

“Pretty well,” he tells me, “I’m in first, even though I almost fell on my quad flip.”

“Yuuri!” I scold him teasingly.

“I was just a little nervous because of the bad weather and not knowing how you were doing in Moscow. That was a really powerful storm, and they say that another may come in too. I was wondering if maybe you should just…maybe stay in Russia until the weather’s better?”

“I’m not missing your free skate,” I insist, “I’ve checked and the weather is supposed to be okay when I fly over. I’ll be there, Yuuri. I don’t want to miss it.”

“Well, okay, but if the weather’s bad…”

“If it’s that bad, they’ll cancel the flight,” I assure him.

We have to keep the call short and I’m kept busy the rest of the day with an interview, lunch out with Yakov’s skating group as well as Stefan. Then, we go back to the hotel and dress for the competition. My costume for the free skate is two colors, gold on the right and black on the left, symbolizing the inside and outside of a person, who hides his true self from everyone around him. On the surface, he is smiling and outgoing. He is everybody’s idea of happiness, but inside, he hides darker emotions he can’t show to anyone. The free skate program is called “Two Faces” and builds on the idea of _Lies_ that is my overarching theme. It’s a demanding program, and we were forced to miss yesterday’s practice, so we’re all going in at a little deficit. I landed the quad loop in practice, although it could have been cleaner, and my stamina feels good, so I go into the competition feeling pretty confident.

“It’s storming again,” Yurio tells me as we watch the first group on the monitor in the skater’s warm up area, “Are you still planning on leaving as soon as this is over?”

“Why? Are you worried about me?” I ask, smirking, “I’m touched.”

“Don’t be stupid,” he says shortly, “I only need you to live long enough for me to beat you in this free skate. Then, you can do what you want.”

He turns away and looks out a window at the swirling snow.

“Pork cutlet bowl probably doesn’t want you to go. And if he worries, he’ll suck in his free skate.”

_Yurio really is cute sometimes._

“What do you care?” I ask, still in that teasing tone, “You’re not competing against him.”

“I am going to destroy him and you at worlds.”

“I see.”

We watch together as Andrei begins his program and Yurio moves closer to me. He skates well again and scores a personal best. Yurio is practically snarling as he heads out for his own performance. Stefan arrives and helps me with a little meditation before checking to make sure everything is stretched and I’m ready to perform. I realize as I walk out that Yurio, too, has scored a personal best, and is still slightly ahead of Andrei. I pass Andrei as I head to the rink entrance.

“Good luck, Victor,” he says, smirking and turning an appraising eye on Stefan, “But you don’t need it with your lucky charm there, do you?”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” I sigh, brushing him off.

I leave Stefan and Yakov at the rink wall and skate out to take my place. But just as my music begins, the power goes out. The rink goes dark, and suddenly, I can’t see a thing. I know better to move until the emergency lights come on, and I can see well enough to return to Yakov. We wait for awhile, then when the lights come back on, I’m called back to center ice.

It’s jarring for any performer to have an interruption like that, but I won’t use that as an excuse to not do my best. I start into my program, letting myself descend into the music and tuning out the fact that the power could go out at any second. The first half goes well and I land the quad flip and a quad salchow combination cleanly. The lights flicker a little during my step sequence, but it’s not enough to disturb the flow of my performance. I’m not tired at all, entering the second half, and everything is going well as I prepare for the quad loop. I can feel as I leave the ice that it’s a well executed jump, but the lights flicker again as I am landing and I nearly fall.

I hear a collective gasp from the spectators and I know what the announcers are saying.

_It might have been the flickering lights that threw him off, but look at the athleticism here as he compensates and manages to avoid putting a hand down._

I keep skating as though nothing happened.

The rest of my program goes well, but I really begin to tire at the end, and when the music stops, it’s everything I can do to not look like I’m gasping for breath.

_I definitely have some work to do before worlds!_

I’m a little spooked when Yakov doesn’t scold me, but gives me an approving nod.

“You did well, considering.”

_What?_

_I almost fell on the quad loop. He should be taking my head off for that._

_I did well?_

“We have Nikiforov’s scores,” the announcer says.

Oddly, I find myself holding my breath a little, and I can see Yakov’s uncertain too. I flinch a little at the fact that they’re lower than I usually score, but they’re high enough to push me past Andrei and Yurio to take an ugly first.

“You’re lucky,” Yakov says under his breath, “I think they let you off easy because of the little light disturbances. It wasn’t enough for them to have you stop, but it did interrupt the flow of your skating. Still, it wasn’t your worst performance.”

“Ouch!” I complain, “I think I like it better when you yell at me.”

“Don’t tempt me.”

“Victor Nikiforov returns from an eight-month hiatus and proves that he still reigns in this kingdom with a win over rising star, Yuri Plisetsky and a challenging Andrei Fedkin!”

_It isn’t what I had in mind for my brilliant return, but I will redeem myself in the European Championships. I’m just glad it’s over._

As soon as the medal ceremony ends, I head over to Yakov.

“You’re still planning to go?” he asks.

I give him a little nod.

“It’s looking better and the flight is still supposed to take off as scheduled. You’ll take Maccachin back to Saint Petersburg for me and take care of him?”

“I will. Have a save flight, Vitya. You make sure that your student doesn’t embarrass you.”

“He won’t,” I laugh, “He’ll probably skate better than I did today.”

“Well, that’s not saying much,” he grumbles.

“I thought you said I did well,” I complain.

“I said you did well, _considering_ …considering you almost fell on your quad loop. I told you it was too soon to add that just yet.”

“And I ignored you,” I chuckle, giving him a hug, “See you soon, Yakov.”

I hurry back to the hotel to check out, then catch a ride to the airport, breathing a sigh of relief as the snow stops falling. My flight runs a little late, but finally they start to board. As I pass the check in desk, a man’s voice reaches me. He’s talking to the airline agent as his elderly mother waits.

“I bought two first class tickets,” he argues, keeping his voice quiet, “It’s my mother’s ninetieth birthday trip, and she’s never flown first class before.”

“I’m so sorry, sir, but we’re overbooked. We’ve had to make some adjustments because of the storm. I can give you one seat in first class and one in coach, or if you want to wait, you can have two first class seats on the flight in the morning.”

“Ah, but then we’ll miss out on some places we’re supposed to go in Japan.”

“I’ve always wanted to go to Japan!” the old Russian woman says, smiling widely.

“That’s right,” her son says, a little loudly so that the old woman can hear, “That’s where we’re going, Mom.”

I’m a little startled as she takes hold of my arm as I start to head to the plane.

“Are you going to Japan too?” she asks cheerfully.

“I am,” I chuckle.

“S-sorry, Mr. Nikiforov!” her son says hastily, putting an arm around the old woman.

“It’s fine,” I say, studying the old woman and her anxious looking son, “But, did I hear you say you wanted two seats in first class?”

“Um…”

I take the tickets from his hand and turn to the agent.

“Why don’t you let them have my seat in first class and I’ll take the one in coach?” I suggest.

“Oh, but we’ve already…”

“I’m sure it won’t hurt anything,” I assure her, “Please make the adjustment.”

I give her a conspiratorial grin and a wink.

“It’ll be our good deed for the day, _da_?”

“W-well, I suppose…” she stammers, looking down at her computer.

Her fingers move quickly, making the change. She hands me the new boarding passes and I hand two to the young man with his mother. The man gives me a relieved smile.

“Thank you so much!”

“It’s nothing,” I assure him, giving his old mom’s hand a squeeze, “Have fun. Oh…and any extras you’d like for her are on me. Spoil her, okay?”

_It’s what I’d do for my own mother…if…_

I feel a little sad, thinking about her, and that feeling stays with me as I board the plane and head to my seat. It’s small, but it’s by a window, so I can lean against that.

_I just wish that Yuuri was here to make a pillow for me. I forgot how little these seats are._

The plane is full, but the two people in my row are quiet and just talk to each other. I lean against the window, looking out at the lightly falling snow as we take off. I use my coat for a little blanket and my scarf for a pillow. I find there’s no sleeping, though, because of intermittent turbulence that shakes the plane and makes the seat belt light come on. They keep it lit as we continue. At the halfway point, I start to feel a little airsick, and a few people around me look a little green also. I manage not to be sick, but the constant shaking works at my nerves, and finally, I take one of the sedative pills just to take the edge off, so I can relax. I breathe slowly, visualizing Yuuri’s smiling face, his soothing voice and his gentle touch to ground myself. It’s an exercise that Stefan taught me, that really comes in handy as the plane starts to shake again. It’s a relief when the plane’s captain informs us we’re about to land. I can see out the window that it’s stormy here in Japan, too. But instead of snow, there are sheets of rain outside as the plane descends amidst heavy winds. I’m sure that if I wasn’t a little sedated, I would probably be nervous. The lady next to me grips the handles of the seat, and her husband sitting next to her, strokes one of her hands.

_I want this to be over. I just want to put my arms around Yuuri and hold him._

I close my eyes again, taking slow breaths and focusing on that as the plane drops down lower, then touches down, bounces and touches down again. Some part of me realizes that the odd pitching I feel then is something very bad about to happen. There’s just a frighteningly strange moment filled with screams, then a jolt so hard that makes everything go black and disturbingly quiet.

I’m not sure how much time passes before I start to wake. I just feel an icy wind and spatters of rain on the side of my face. I smell smoke and I can hear the garbled voices of people around me. I open my eyes, but everything looks dark and distorted, and it pulses strangely, fading in and out. I feel a choking sensation and I realize that I’m partially restrained in my seat, but the plane is tilted. I release the belt and drop a little, so I’m lying on my belly in the wreckage. People are scrambling out, and I know I need to be doing the same.

My head feels really strange, but I try to ignore the sensation. Instead, I focus all of my energy on crawling out from under the odds and ends of broken seats and scattered belongings. I push with my left foot and move forward a little, but my right foot catches on something, and I can’t pull it free. I try turning my body and shifting my weight, wiggling and trying to slip out of my shoe, but although there doesn’t seem to be an unusual amount of pain, I can’t jiggle it free. The smoke in the air and the heat of a fire that’s burning near me warns me that remaining where I am isn’t an option. I have scant minutes to free myself or I am really going to be in trouble.

I look around and don’t see anyone near me. I still hear the sounds of people digging their way out, rain pouring down on everything and sirens wailing nearby. I bury my face in the crook of my clothed arm so that I can get a half decent breath, then I kick hard with my free foot, slamming it against the piece of wreckage that has my other foot pinned. The first kick seems to loosen it a little, so I set my jaw and kick harder, straining and twisting, coughing on the thickening smoke and quivering at the feel of the increasing heat. My head throbs and I feel a weird spinning sensation, but something tells me not to stop kicking and trying to twist my way free. In the midst of my struggles, I feel something slide out of my pocket.

_My cell phone?_

I turn it on and take it out of airplane mode, then use the light to try to see where my foot is caught, but the smoke obscures things too much. I think I see a flash of bright red and I get a sickening feeling in my stomach. It’s getting uncomfortably hot, and I’m chillingly aware that if I wasn’t a little sedated, I might begin to panic.

_This is just not happening._

Clenching the phone in my hand and still trying to see the source of my problem, I loose a hard guttural sound and kick with everything I have. The smoke makes me cough harder and I feel a rushing in my head, then I hear something that changes everything for me in a moment.

“Victor?”

I realize that I’ve inadvertently hit the call button and speed dialed Yuuri. I’m coughing and sputtering too badly to answer properly, but I gasp out his name and I feel the oddest awareness that I’ve reached a really critical moment.

“Victor, what’s happening? Are you there? VICTOR!”

_Damn it! If I don’t free myself now, I will never see him or Maccachin again. There won’t be anymore naked showers or mornings in bed with him, skating practice, walks on the beach together or pork cutlet bowls. I don’t know what there will be, but I’m damned if I’m going to leave Yuuri now or this way!_

I slam my free foot against the wreckage a last time and it loosens enough that I’m almost free, but I’m out of breath and coughing, my eyes stinging and burning so I can’t see. Just when I think I’m done for, a strong arm wraps around my waist, and a hand reaches down to work my foot the last little bit free.

“I have you,” says a male voice that’s familiar.

It’s not Yuuri, and it takes me a minute to realize it’s the man I switched seats with.

_Where did he come from?_

I can’t say anything, but I hold on to him as drags me onto my good foot. Leaning against him and holding my clothed arm over my nose and mouth, I stagger out of the wreckage with him steadying me. We get clear of the wreckage and join the rest of the passengers in a rain soaked huddle as emergency crews fight the fire that’s still burning in the remains of the wrecked aircraft.

“Where is your mother?” I ask with the first good breath I can manage.

“She’s okay,” the man tells me, “She’s not real connected with reality, so she doesn’t realize what just happened. They’re checking her out, but she seems just fine. The section of the plane we were in stayed pretty much intact, so I was able to get her out.”

He pauses and looks at my filthy and rain spattered face and smiles.

“She did have one lucid moment, though. She asked me where was that nice boy who let us sit together. She told me to go and find you.”

I look from him to his mother and I crawl over to where a paramedic is sitting with her and checking her vital signs. She gives me a wide smile, like nothing in the world could be wrong and asks me, “Are we in Japan now, dear?”

“We are,” I tell her cheerfully.

“It’s as beautiful as I thought it would be,” she says happily, “A little wet, but it smells good here.”

“It’s great,” I laugh, “Be sure to try a pork cutlet bowl while you’re here. They’re the best.”

Saying that reminds me all of a sudden that the phone line was open and Yuuri seemed to know I was in trouble. I pull the phone out and hear him literally sobbing my name, and I cough hard to clear my lungs before answering.

“I’m fine, Yuuri,” I tell him in a hoarse voice, “I was in trouble for a bit, so I couldn’t answer you. Sorry I scared you.”

“You’re sure you’re okay?” he persists.

I hate that there are still tears in his voice because he’s been so panicked over me.

“I’m fine,” I tell him again, “just a little shaken up.”

I look back at my rescuer as he hugs his smiling mother and I’m glad I will see my own mother again…sometime. Another paramedic sits down with me then and starts to look me over. He convinces me to lie down as he examines me, and I leave the phone line open, so I can hear Yuuri’s voice in my ear. At some point, I either fall asleep or pass out. I’m not sure which one. I wake up again in a hospital bed with Yuuri, Minako and Mari on one side and Yakov on the other, along with…

_She’s here?_

_Am I really awake, then?_

“Mother?”

“Idiot!” Yakov scolds me, “It nearly scared her to death when it was on the news that the plane you were on landed badly and caught fire like that.”

“But that…? How long have I been here?” I ask, blinking in confusion and looking at Yuuri, “What about your free skate?”

Minako giggles.

“That was two days ago,” she tells me.

“I stood in as coach for you since you were too busy sleeping to get up and go with him,” Yakov tells me.

“Sorry,” I tell Yuuri, “But…?”

Yuuri smiles and shows his pretty gold medal.

“I’m not dreaming, right?” I ask, grinning, “That’s not silver or bronze?”

“Nope,” Yuuri assures me, “You’re seeing it right. It’s gold.”

“I feel terrible,” I say, shaking my head and instantly regretting it as it aches and throbs, “I didn’t get to see any of it.”

“It’s okay,” Minako assures me, “We’ve got it on video, so you can watch it.”

“Just rest a little more, okay?” Yuuri urges me, “And when you get out of here, we can start planning our wedding.”

I meet my mother’s anxious eyes questioningly.

“You’ll be there, won’t you?” I ask her.

“Of course I will,” she promises, “I’ve decided, Vitya, I’m not going back. When we go back to Russia, I’m staying in Saint Petersburg…with Yakov and with you.”


	16. In Regards to Our Love

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Christmas arrives in Hasetsu, and with it, Victor's birthday.

Once I wake up, I’m out of the hospital faster than you can say, _Victor Nikiforov doesn’t like hospitals_. It’s really not what my attending physician advises, but I don’t listen to him any better than I listen to Yakov, and I sign out of the hospital on the promise that I will go straight to Yutopia Katsuki and let the Katsukis spoil the living hell out of me, as well as having the local doctor check in with me about my concussion and my cut and sprained ankle.

I sink down into that oh so comfortable bed that I remember, and the room fills up with tons of flowers and gifts from family, friends and fans. Yakov yells at me for eating too many of the delicious pork cutlet bowls, but I can tell that he’s just like that because he was worried about me. He loves the pork cutlet bowls as much as I do. The best part is that my mother is there too, and she finally gets to meet the love of my life. I’m told that she and Yuuri really hit it off while I was out cold, and it seems that way, because where you see one, you almost always see the other, and both of them love nothing more than spoiling me to within an inch of my life.

Did I mention that it’s Christmas Eve today?

And that means that tomorrow will be my twenty-eighth birthday.

The inn is busy because of the holidays, so Yuuri and I are alone, with him sitting on the bed next to me, sharing with me the get well cards and birthday cards that were delivered to the inn most recently.

“This one is from Yurio!” Yuuri laughs, picking up a card that has a black cat on one side that’s dressed up to look like a biker and holding up a middle claw.

“That looks like what he would send,” I chuckle, looking over Yuuri’s shoulder as he reads.

_Victor,_

_I told you it was stupid to go to Japan in a storm, and you should know that getting killed in a plane crash would have been a cheap way for you to avoid me humiliating you in the European Championships. You’d better get off your ass and train so that you don’t insult me with a miserable performance like that shit you pulled at nationals. By the way, happy birthday._

Yuuri pauses and we look at each other for a moment, before starting to laugh together.

“Did he forget that I still beat him with that shit I pulled at nationals?” I giggle.

 _Otabek is a lot nicer than me,_ Yuuri reads, _so he sends best wishes. He’s moving to Saint Petersburg, so he’ll be training there too. Stay out of our way when you and pork cutlet bowl come back from Japan._

“It’s signed _The Ice Tiger of Russia_ ,” Yuuri says, looking amused.

“That was pretty nice for him. I think he might have actually been worried, don’t you?” I ask.

“Oh, that definitely sounded like he might be worried,” Yuuri agrees.

He picks up another card, but my attention’s been caught by the fact that it’s stopped raining and it looks pretty nice for a walk. Unfortunately, I’ve been ordered to stay off of my hurt foot for a few more days.

“Yuuri, I’m getting bored, and aren’t there a lot of things to see right now?”

“There sure are!” Yuuri says happily, “People around here like to celebrate Christmas…not the way that other countries do, but as more of a season for giving to others and spreading happiness. I know you said that you don’t really celebrate Christmas, but here, we share our happiness with the people we love. We give cards and gifts and we eat Christmas cake.”

“Wow! What is Christmas cake, Yuuri?” I ask enthusiastically.

“It’s a sponge cake that has strawberries and whipped cream on it,” he explains.

“You mean, like strawberry shortcake?”

“Exactly!” he affirms.

“I love strawberry shortcake!”

“We also listen to special music, especially Beethoven’s Ninth, _Ode to Joy_. We just call it _Daiku_. And young couples go out together to look at the Christmas lights and eat fried chicken. I guess, for us, it’s kind of like Valentine’s Day.”

“Really? That sounds great. Since we’re here, let’s celebrate with your family. Yuuri, I want to go out and see the decorations. Do you think you can help me?”

“But, the doctor told you to stay off your hurt foot!” Yuuri objects, “You want it to heal in time for the European Championships, right?”

“Oh, don’t you worry. It will,” I assure him, moving to the edge of the bed.

“Victor!” he complains.

“Shh! Yakov will hear and come in and yell at me.”

Yuuri gives me a funny look.

“What?” I ask, tilting my head curiously.

“I think Yakov’s too busy,” he answers, smiling, “He took Mirra-san walking through town.”

“I want to go there too! Come on and help me put on my one shoe and I’ll lean on you, so I won’t put weight on my wrapped up foot.”

“I’m not going to do that!” he snaps, “You’re supposed to rest.”

“I’ve never seen Christmas in Japan,” I complain, “Yuuri, I want to see. Besides, you said that young lovers go walking to see the lights. I want to do this with you.”

We end up calling Takeshi and Yuko, who drive us down to where the pretty lights have been strung and lots of people are out eating and visiting the vendors all around.

“What are you doing?” Yuuri shouts as I climb out of the stopped car.

“I told you, I want to see.”

“Well, at least lean on me if you aren’t going to do what the doctor said.”

I lean on his arm and limp along a little awkwardly, looking at everything. After a few minutes, I’m tiring a little, so Yuuri lifts me onto his back and gives me a piggyback ride, which is funny, because even though I’m lighter than him, he’s not as tall as I am. It’s so noisy and friendly and fun as we look around, I don’t want to leave, but we spot Yakov and my mother standing under a sprig of mistletoe and bite out lips to not giggle out loud as the two share a tentative kiss, then they look into each other’s eyes and share a more passionate one.

“I guess we know what that means,” Yuuri says, putting me down, then turning to look at me, “You must be pretty happy about that.”

“I can’t help but be happy,” I sigh, “I know it doesn’t mean that the trouble is over, but I’m glad they’re finally telling each other how they feel.”

Yuuri studies me for a moment, then asks me a question that genuinely takes me by surprise.

“So, are you going to change your last name to Feltsman?”

I blink as I consider.

“I can’t right now, because he doesn’t want to make a public thing of this,” I answer, “but maybe when the time comes and my mother is divorced from Modya and marries Yakov…”

We look at each other for a minute.

_Victor Feltsman._

It sounds strange and not like me, but even though I kind of like the sound of my current last name, it is connected to the bastard who almost killed me before, and who still hurts my mother.

“I’ll be glad to change it later,” I say, frowning, “Maybe it will be hard for people to deal with, but I want to be as far away from Modya Nikiforov as possible.”

“Hmm,” Yuuri muses, “and are you thinking that I should change my last name when we are married to yours or yours to mine? Or should we keep our own?”

_Huh…Victor Katsuki?_

_That’s…ADORABLE!_

“Oh, but that might be confusing when we skate.”

“It might be,” I agree, “But there’s time to decide what to do. There’s no hurry.”

“Right,” Yuuri agrees.

Yakov turns suddenly and sees the two of us watching them. My mother smiles and laughs, giving us a little, friendly wave, but Yakov is anything but friendly.

“VICTOR! DO YOU WANT TO TELL ME WHAT THE HELL YOU ARE DOING, RUNNING AROUND OUT HERE ON THAT DAMNED SPRAINED ANKLE? GET YOUR ASS BACK TO THE HOT SPRING RIGHT NOW!”

“Maybe we’d better get back,” Yuuri laughs as I hop onto his back again and he runs for the car, where we find Yuko and Takeshi waiting for us and sharing bites of Christmas cake.

“Want to try some?” Yuko offers, breaking off a little for me.

The next thing I know, my mouth is filled with a light, fluffy, fruity sweetness.

“That’s so good!” I gush, “Where do we get one?”

“You and I can just go back to Yutopia Katsuki,” Yuuri tells me, “Mom is making fried chicken and then she’ll make Christmas cake for dessert.”

“Well, what are we waiting for?” I laugh, “Let’s go.”

We start heading back to the inn, but as we go, I start to feel kind of dizzy from the healing concussion, and by the time we reach the inn, I’m feeling too nauseous to eat anything. And if that isn’t enough, Yakov arrives as Yuuri is helping me back into bed and gives me an earful for going out when, by his estimation, I should still be in the hospital, not galivanting around town and stressing out my poor body. Luckily for me, Yuuri’s parents coax him away so that he’ll stop yelling at me.

Hiroko calls the old doctor, who comes and examines me, then says I have a fever from pushing myself too hard. He orders me to stay in bed, then gives me a smile and a wink and tells my devoted caretakers to be sure I have some fried chicken and Christmas cake as soon as my stomach feels settled enough.

Yuuri leaves to help with the dinner, but my mother comes in to sit with me while I moan and groan a little, trying to decide whether or not I’m going to throw up.

It feels a little strange, but also comforting when she brushes a cool, wet cloth over my face. In the back of my mind, I remember that she’s done this before. Even the way she looks at me while she does this, that amused look that she gives me, is like the look that I remember her giving me before.

“You haven’t changed at all, have you?” she sighs sympathetically, “My Vitya can’t just do what he’s told. He listens to his heart, even when his heart is telling him to do too much.”

It’s hard to stay awake anymore, especially when she makes me feel so safe and comfortable like this. I yawn and start to drift off, looking up into her eyes that are just a shade lighter than mine.

“I just don’t want to miss anything with Yuuri,” I whisper sleepily, “I waited forever to feel this happy, so I want to do as much as I can and make it last as long as it can.”

Mother pats my face.

“You act like it will just disappear, Vitya. That is not going to happen.”

For a moment, I feel that awful feeling again…from that moment when I was trapped in the plane’s wreckage and I worried that my life and love with Yuuri might be over.

“But it just almost did,” I tell her, “I never, ever want to feel that way again.”

Her arms slide around me and I close my eyes, sinking into that safe feeling that I’ve missed for all of the years that she and I have been separated.

“You love that boy with everything in you, don’t you?” she says, kissing the top of my head, I can see that you do, and that he loves you more than anything too. He’s a good, kind hearted boy, Vitya. I’m glad he makes you happy.”

“I love Yuuri so much that it hurts. When I thought that everything might be over, I couldn’t stand it.”

“Shh,” she soothes me, patting my face, then hugging me again, “that’s over now. You’re here in this wonderful place with the people who make you happy, right?”

“Mmhmm.”

She takes my face in her hands and looks into my tired eyes.

“You’re worn out. Close your eyes for just a little while, okay? I promise you that when you open them again, we will all be here and all of the good things will still be all around you. You had quite a scare, but if you think about it, it just made you appreciate everything even more, didn’t it?”

I give her a skeptical look.

“I didn’t really need to be reminded of that in such a scary way,” I complain.

“Maybe not, but that’s not something we get to choose.”

“I know, but I don’t have to like it.”

“You don’t,” she agrees, “Let it go now, Vitya. Close your eyes and let everything that scares you fade away. Just feel how warm and safe and loved you are, right here and right now.”

I feel a little quiet shiver and I suddenly recall being very small and hearing the same words.

“You’ve said this to me before,” I whisper, letting my eyes close and feeling very small and vulnerable again, “It was dark and I was crying.”

“Yes,” she says softly, “and it wasn’t just once, but every time Vitya felt scared or alone. And every time I said this to you, you believed me and it was true. Every time, you found your strength and you were okay. You’ll be okay this time too.”

I’m not as sure as she is, but I’m so very tired I can’t argue. Instead, I just accept the warmth and comfort. I drop off to sleep. Some time later in the night, I feel the bed move as Yuuri slides in next to me. I turn and curl into his arms. I smile when I feel his fingers in my hair and he gives me a goodnight kiss.

“Happy birthday, Vitya,” he whispers in my ear.

I open my eyes and give him a sleepy smile.

“Are you my birthday present, Yuuri?”

He laughs at that.

“I was already yours, _baka_. I can’t be your birthday present now too.”

“Sure you can,” I assure him, moving so I’m lying partly on top of him, “Because even though you’re already mine? Every day, I think of another new thing I love about you. It makes every day like my birthday.”

“Well, you wouldn’t want to have a birthday every day,” he laughs, “because then you’d grow old very fast.”

“Just as long as I grow old with you,” I sigh, nuzzling into his shoulder, “That’s all I want, Yuuri. It’s all that matters to me.”

I hear his breath catch a little, the way it does when something really touches him deeply, then I feel his hands tremble just a little where they’re holding onto me.

“That’s all that matters to me too,” he answers in a whisper.

We are finally both able to sleep after that, but in the very early hours of the morning, before there is any light, I wake when Yuuri shivers in my arms and I hear a little sniff and a soft, sleepy whimper. His face is buried in my shoulder and when I coax him out and look at him, there are tears on his face.

“Yuuri, what’s wrong?”

He tries to hide his face in my shoulder again and it takes several minutes of me kissing and caressing him to calm him enough to get him to talk to me.

“Usually lately it’s been me who has nightmares, not you,” I say, kissing his earlobe, “It was a bad dream, right?”

“Sort of,” he says in a small voice, “I did dream it, but it was something real that I was just remembering.”

He quivers and starts to cry again while I rub his back and whisper in his ear to soothe him. After a few minutes, he sniffs and looks at me through red, teary eyes.

“What is it? What did you remember that upset you so much? Was it the plane accident?”

He sniffs again and rubs his eyes, managing a little nod.

“It’s just I was remembering that I was already at the airport, waiting for you, and I was watching as the planes landed. I saw the plane in the distance. I didn’t know for sure it was yours, but…I saw start to slide, then it rolled over like it was in slow motion.”

“Oh, Yuuri!”

_He never told me he saw this!_

_Why didn’t he say anything?_

“I’m sorry you saw that.”

“That wasn’t the worst part,” he admits, tearing up again, “The worst part, and the part I keep remembering is…”

He has to stop again, and his hands really clench at me when he does go on.

“I keep remembering the sound through the phone of you coughing so hard, struggling and fighting to stay alive.”

“Don’t think about that,” I whisper, “That’s over, Yuuri.”

“S-sorry! It’s just that I used to think of Victor being like a god.”

“You know better than anyone that’s not true.”

“I know,” he sobs, “but sometimes the only comfort I have when I’m afraid for you is that you aren’t just a normal person like me. Gods are invincible, but people can die. I was terrified I might hear the sounds of you dying, but at the same time, I couldn’t stop listening, and calling out to you, because I had to know if you were still there!”

“I’m right here now. Stop thinking about that,” I chide him, hugging him and nuzzling his wet cheek.

“But you’re hurt!” he says, touching a healing bruise on my cheek, “You try to act like everything is fine, but you can’t walk right and when you pushed yourself so hard today, you made yourself sick! Sometimes you act like you think you’re not human!”

_Oh, I feel like such a shit for worrying him like that, but at the same time, I was so comforted to know he was with me through everything before. And when everything was all right, I just wanted to be in a safe, comfortable place. I was happy to be in Hasetsu, because it helped me to forget how helpless I felt when I was trapped and in danger. I stupidly forgot that I wasn’t the only one who went through all of that. Yuuri might not have been with me in the crashed plane, but he was on the other end of the line, hearing my distress and unable to do anything. I know how I would feel if our situation was reversed. What I don’t know is how to calm his fears._

_I can’t be the god he wishes I was._

_But, being human,_ I think as I hug him again and guide his head to my chest so that he can hear my beating heart and slow breathing, _this is something we share…and wanting to hold onto each other means it’s natural to feel the inevitable fear of that moment when we have to let go and die. We try not to think about it, but it is there. And sometimes death feels close._

_But this time, we were lucky. It wasn’t that time. We have more living to do, and my misbehavior and poor choice to strain my healing body was just me acting out against those fears. I didn’t realize that ignoring my limitations also hurt Yuuri, because he loves me._

“Yuuri,” I say, tickling his cheek and making him look at me, “For Christmas, lets just stay in bed all day and eat fried chicken and Christmas cake.”

_He’s so cute, giving me that surprised look!_

“But, it’s your birthday and Christmas too,” he says uncertainly, “Before, you seemed all energetic and you said you were bored. What changed? Why do you want to stay here now? Are you feeling feverish again?”

“I’m not feverish,” I reassure him, giving him a bracing smile, “It’s just that, for Yuuri, because I love him, I’m trying just a little harder to behave myself.”

He gets a hundred times cuter as he realizes what I’m saying and he breaks into a helpless smile while still leaking tears.

“You’re doing that for me?”

“No,” I answer, “I’m doing this for us. Will you go to sleep now, Yuuri? I promise I won’t get into any more trouble or do anything strenuous while you’re sleeping, okay?”

“Okay, but I’m holding you to that,” he says in a determined tone.

“Just as long as you are holding me.”

“I won’t let go,” he promises.

“Good. Neither will I.”


	17. The Blind Side

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Victor and his family return from Japan to more than one shocking surprise.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was listening to Wolf Alice "Bros" during Victor's skate with his mom and it just seemed so sweet and mellow as he remembered more from his past with her.

As happy as I am in Hasetsu with Yuuri’s family, our friends and my parents, the annoying and persistent truth is that we really don’t have time for an extended stay. To begin with, Yakov has more students competing in the European Nationals than just me. By the time my concussion and ankle are well enough so that I can go back home, it’s been almost a week, and in addition to me not getting any training time, he’s only been able to do short video conferences with his other skaters. He really does need to get back. Also, Yuuri needs to get settled into my house and he needs to train also. So, well before I feel ready, we are gathering our things and preparing for the flight back to Saint Petersburg.

As much as I would love to stay in Hasetsu forever with Yuuri and his family at the hot spring inn, I’ve been eagerly awaiting the moment when Yuuri officially moves into the house that we will share, first as lovers, then as a married couple. Technically, our marriage will not be recognized by Yuuri’s home country or mine, but we will go somewhere that does recognize it for the official ceremony, and no matter what anyone says, it will be real to us. Saint Petersburg is a place that is generally accepting of homosexuality, so even though our union will not be recognized, we shouldn’t encounter much, if any, resistance to our choice to be a couple. If we should, well, then perhaps we will move somewhere else.

The last day we spend together in Hasetsu includes a trip to Ice Castle Hesetsu, where Yuuri gets in some practice and I have my first gentle workout. Yakov takes care of Yuuri, while I warm up as my mother watches.

Well, at least I expect she’ll just be watching.

I’m surprised when I execute a turn and see her skating out to join me. I know she’s a good dancer, but my memories of my earlier years are so muddled, I couldn’t tell you if I ever saw her on ice skates before. I have to conclude that she has done this before as she not only skates smoothly, she executes a few basic ice dance steps as she heads out to join me.

_I think I might just die of happiness right here._

Her hand takes mine and we start out skating side by side, just smooth, easy movements that won’t put stress on my healing ankle. After a few times around, she turns and takes both of my hands and skates backwards as I lead. Although I’ve been a figure skater all of this time, I have a secret love of just dancing on ice. I indulge in that at the end of all of my and Yuuri’s practice sessions. When I skate with Yuuri, it’s mostly me moving and Yuuri reading and following.

I get the life shocked out of me as I realize that my mother is also reading me with the accuracy of, not just a good dancer, but someone who has to have watched me do this before. I can see out of the corner of my eye that Yuuri has stopped skating and that he and Yakov are watching with widened eyes as my mother and I warm the ice with a technically basic, but visually very satisfying display of rhythmic moves.

And I start to see something as we skate together.

Her long hair looks so much like mine did when I was younger. Her eyes are lighter than mine, but when I look into them, I feel the same deep throbs of life I always used to feel when my practices were over and I would just skate for the pleasure of doing so.

_So, she likes this too._

_We have that in common._

She’s so light, almost weightless as I lift her and turn with her. I set her down again and we spin for a moment, then rejoin for a set of zig zag steps, another graceful turn, then I lower her into a lovely death spiral.

_She has definitely done this before!_

_When?_

_Why don’t I remember this?_

I bring her back in close again and we continue to move in time with the music that plays. I notice something then that I hadn’t seen before.

When I went to see her at our old home near Moscow, she had changed so much it was nearly heartbreaking. It was like the life and color had been drained out of her, body and soul. What I see now, in front of me, is the Mirra Nikiforov I recall from a long time ago. When my father was there, she was quieter, but when it was just her with my brother, my sister and I, she was so different. And that’s what I see coming back to life.

And with each moment that we skate together, I feel life coming back into me too. With that feeling of liveliness are more things that I somehow didn’t remember.

_We have skated together._

The images in my mind are dim at first, like I’m not sure if this is something I remember or if it’s something that I’m just dreaming. There’s a kind of ethereal nature to it that radiates both reality and dream. But as the minutes pass, it’s like the colors fill in and I really do remember. I was very young, so I didn’t skate with the grace and fluidity I do now. Still, I recall that we were both smiling and very, very happy. Back then, her hand was the stronger one, and I was the one who was less sure on his feet.

_I remember now that her laughter was so beautiful!_

_I remember skating on a frozen lake near our house, where the neighborhood kids used to go to play on winter days. There was a lot of laughter…cold air in my lungs…hot chocolate after._

_I forgot about all of that after that horrible night when that life ended and I went to live with Yakov. I don’t think it was on purpose. Maybe it was because I knew I wasn’t going back, so I didn’t want to think about what I was missing. Maybe it was because there were so many things from that time that were painful, I was blocking out everything and starting over._

_I don’t know._

_I only know that I feel so very happy to have this back. I love putting my arms around this person who is a part of my life that I was missing for the longest time. I love her face that it seems my own was built from, her pretty, streaming silver hair, those blissful eyes and her bright, contented smile. I love that we both like to dance and skate._

And then I have the saddest thought.

_Modya never appreciated this._

_What the hell did she ever see in that man anyway?_

I try to think of him being affectionate towards her, but my mind is tasked with how stern he usually was with me.

_He did not deserve a wild, fun loving, beautiful person like her._

The song playing comes to an end and we slow and stop, facing each other. My heart is practically bursting with both joy at having this time with her and sadness that so many years went by with us being separated. It hurts to think of her ever leaving. No, I want her to stay close to me.

“Vitya, you look sad,” she says, touching my face, “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” I lie, forcing a smile, “My head just still hurts a little from the concussion, I think. This was also my first workout since the accident, so I’m a bit tired.”

I’m pretty sure she sees right through that, but she doesn’t call me on it. We hold hands as we return to the edge of the rink and I sit down and remove my skates. Yuuri’s already back in his sneakers, so he kneels in front of me and rubs my feet and my sore ankle.

“Be sure to ice that as soon as we get back,” Yakov advises me, “Alternate soaking in the hot spring and icing it.”

“I know, I know,” I chuckle, “Rest it, alternate heat and ice, elevate. I’ve got it.”

I look up at my mother.

“You know, I forgot that you used to skate with us before.”

“At the lake near our house,” she affirms, “You were pretty young then. But from that first time I skated with you when you were just four years old, you loved ice skating, and I loved watching you skate.”

She pauses and searches for the right way to put what she wants to say next.

“Vitya, I know that I didn’t call you enough, and I didn’t tell you this…”

“It’s fine,” I interrupt, “I know things were difficult, especially when it comes to me.”

“But, I’m telling you now,” she says reaching down to touch my cheek, “I watched you every time Modya turned his back. Even though he discouraged me from interrupting your new life at the ice center, I still watched you as often as I could, and I’m so proud of you. I’m glad I can say that to you now.”

I give her a genuine smile.

“I’m glad you’re here to say it too.”

We’re both kind of quiet and thoughtful as we return to Yutopia Katsuki. I go to lie down and Yuuri comes with me, while my mother and Yakov visit with Hiroko and Toshiya.

“Are you feeling okay?” Yuuri asks, curling up on my chest as we lie, still clothed, on top of the covers.

“I suppose,” I answer, “Maybe I’m sad that it had to be this way, that I had to wait until now to know my own mother again. I keep remembering good things I hadn’t been able to for all this time, and it feels like that was all stolen because of Modya. Still, it’s good to have this back now.”

I give Yuuri a little smile and run my fingers through his hair.

“What about you? Are you ready for the move to Saint Petersburg?”

“Yeah,” he answers, “I’m looking forward to us living together on our own.”

“I don’t know,” I chuckle, “I don’t enjoy doing everything for myself. I do cook and clean, but mostly because I have to or my place would be a mess, and I don’t like living in a mess.”

“Well, there will be two of us, and I promise I’ll do my part to make our home comfortable.”

“You’ll do that just by being there with me, _solnyshko_ ,” I tell him, giving him a kiss, “I’m glad you’re going to be there. I was lonely there before.”

Yuuri gives a little laugh.

“But you weren’t always alone there, right? Just the last five years.”

“I’ve barely lived in that house for five years,” I explain, “and I never took a romantic partner there before you. Yuuri, this house was just my home, and now it will be just ours.”

His breath catches a little and I can see he’s touched. We hug and kiss a few more times, then settle and rest for awhile, as the afternoon passes. Time moves so quickly after that, and before we know it, all of our things are packed, and we’re headed to the airport. I’ll be honest. I’d love to say that I don’t worry at all about getting on the plane, but the truth is, after what happened to me before, I get a little shaky going back. Yuuri notices that I’m sweating a little and looking uncomfortable, and I feel his hand slip into mine as we board.

The flight back is smooth and, thank god, uneventful, and the weather in Saint Petersburg is welcoming. My spirits begin to lift amidst that and the fact that the people who mean the most to me are right with me. We head out of the airport, but as we do, we find a group of reporters, who flock towards us.

“Yakov, what’s going on?” I ask softly, “Did you tell anyone we were coming? And even if you did, why the welcoming committee?”

“I don’t know,” he answers, “Just be quiet and let me do the talking.”

My mother moves closer to me, holding my hand and positioning herself so that the encroaching people and flashing cameras only get glimpses of her.

“Victor, can we have a word with you and Yuuri?”

Have you heard about the explosive interview given by Andrei Fedkin earlier today?”

“How could we know anything?” Yakov asks, “We’ve been on an airplane coming back from Japan. Victor is still recovering from his injuries from the plane crash, and he needs to rest.”

“Will Victor’s injuries keep him from competing in the European Championships?” a reporter asks.

“We do not believe so,” Yakov answers, “He is back at practicing now. He is having to be ginger with his sprained ankle, but it is healing well, and should not impact his skating in the championships.”

“Do you have any comment about Andrei Fedkin’s accusations that Victor has become romantically involved with his counselor from the Saint Petersburg drug and alcohol recovery center?”

“We hadn’t even heard of any such accusation. And such a suggestion is ridiculous. Victor has already given a public interview in which he has admitted that he is seeking treatment for alcoholism, and that man is his counselor. There is nothing more to say about it.”

“Have you seen the photos that were sent to us?” another reporter asks as he has one of the cameramen display an image of several pictures.

“Andrei has been following me around, taking pictures?” I ask, frowning and earning a look of warning from Yakov.

I know he told me not to say anything, but if he was doing that, it’s more than a little creepy to me.

“The pictures came from an anonymous source,” the reporter answers, “But in his interview earlier today, Andrei said that he had personally witnessed the two of you sitting close together at a Moscow restaurant, and you were skating together, holding hands and with your arm around him after the Russian Nationals free skate. Do you have any comment on that?”

Yakov gives me a really nasty glare that tells me not to say a word, but the two of us get the shock of our life as Yuuri steps forward and speaks up.

“Would you like to hear what I have to say?” he asks the group of reporters.

They look like a bunch of sharks about to feed, and I want to snatch poor Yuuri out of harm’s way. Yakov has frozen for a moment, because Yuuri is my student, and so I should be the one to tell him not to say anything, but he’s already moving to where the images are displayed on the screen.

“What do you have to say about Andrei Fedkin’s allegations, and the pictures that were sent to us?” the reporter who was talking to Yakov asks.

A second camera is trained on Yuuri as he approaches the one that shows a picture of Stefan and me hugging, another of us sitting across from each other at the Moscow restaurant, leaning a little towards each other, and a third with me holding Stefan and us both laughing.

“First of all,” Yuuri says calmly, “Before Victor and I were lovers…”

My jaw drops.

_Yuuri has never stated publicly like this that we’re lovers. I mean, there was that whole thing with the rings in Barcelona, but that wasn’t in front of reporters._

_Wow…_

“Before Victor and I were lovers, I was probably the biggest Victor Nikiforov fan that ever lived. I watched his skating for most of my life, and I read all about him in the magazines, growing up. And watching Victor like I did, I got to know a lot about him. I learned even more when Victor became my coach, and then, my lover and my fiancé.”

The reporters in front of us looked shocked, first of all to hear Yuuri speak at such length, and to speak about something private like that in public. But to me, Yuuri choosing to do that is understandable. I know him well now, too. And what I know is that he would speak up like this to defend me, and to defend our love.

I can’t even express the beautiful feeling that gives me as he goes on.

“Victor is beautiful and he is very charming,” Yuuri goes on, “He is loved by so many people all around the world for his beauty, his charm and his wonderful skating. But that is all in public and in front of everyone. What everyone might not know is that Victor is also a very good friend. He takes care of the people he loves, and he is completely loyal.”

“But, what about what you see right in front of you?” the reporter asks, “Don’t these images make you worry? They are pretty intimate.”

Yuuri gives the man a smile that is so confident, I too am mystified at how he can be that way with everything that’s happening.

“Why don’t we look a little closer?” he requests, and the camera zooms in, “In this photo of Victor and Stefan at the restaurant, they are leaning across the table to talk to each other. I’ve been to that restaurant with Victor, so I know it’s loud in there. If they were talking, which a counselor and his patient would be, then they would have to lean towards each other to be heard. In the picture of Stefan and Victor holding each other, there and laughing, they’re on ice skates. I already know that Stefan isn’t an ice skater. He’s said so before to me. If Victor was being friendly and showing him what fun skating is, he might have to catch a new skater who was falling…and you can tell Stefan was falling if you just look at his feet.”

_Oh my god, Yuuri, you are AMAZING!_

_I just fell in love with you all over again._

“And this photo of Victor and Stefan hugging? Look at the position of Victor’s hands and arms. They’re not wrapped around Stefan at all. This is the way that Victor hugs his skating coach also, with open hands on the front of his shoulders. There is no way that anything improper is going on between Victor and Stefan.”

I expect another flurry of questions, but the reporters are just looking from us to the pictures and back again, like they’re shell shocked. Yuuri’s hand takes hold of mine and we walk past the staring reporters and out of the airport without any further problem. I’m still in a state of shock, myself until we get to the waiting car, then everything comes out in a flood.

“Yuuri, you were AMAZING!” I gush, hugging him, “I can’t believe you shut them all down like that. I’ve never seen anyone do what you just did. You’re incredible!”

“What?” he says, shaking his head, “I just pointed out some obvious things that anyone who knows you would notice.”

“Well,” Yakov rumbles, giving Yuuri an approving look, “apparently, none of them noticed."

I give Yakov a curious look.

“How come you’re not scolding Yuuri for talking to them?” I ask, “If it was me talking to them, you would take my head off after.”

“That’s because you would just give them more reason to ask questions. Yuuri actually knew what he was doing. He can talk to them, but you should continue to keep quiet!”

“That’s not very nice,” I chuckle.

Our driver takes us to the home that Yuuri and I are going to share and Yakov and my mother climb out to walk us to the door. We’re still laughing over the incident at the airport as I unlock the front door and open it, standing back slightly to let Yuuri enter first. He steps inside, then freezes, staring at the scene of absolute destruction inside.

None of us can speak as we take in the sight of the tumbled furniture, the torn curtains, overturned and broken planters near the entry. It’s a good thing that most of my personal belongings were in Japan with me and haven’t arrived yet, because everything in front of us is a complete, unsalvageable mess.

“Oh my god,” Yuuri whispers, his face looking ghostly, “Victor…what happened here?”

“I think it’s clear what happened,” Yakov says in a low, angry voice, “But what’s not clear is exactly who is responsible.”

_Was it Andrei?_

_Was it Modya?_

_Was it someone else?_

_Who did this to our home?_


	18. Love as Long as it's Quiet

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Victor and Yuuri deal with the fallout of the destruction of Victor's home.

It’s hard to say what I feel, looking at the mess that’s been made of what’s to be Yuuri’s and my home. I feel a sick sensation inside as we walk slowly through the house together, examining the scene of destruction. Not only have things been knocked over and broken, blood red spray paint has been applied to the walls, floors and carpets. In most of the house, the paint is just used for meaningless scrawl, but as we enter the master bedroom, the sick feeling in my stomach increases as I read two words that have been painted in tall, distinct letters, so that they cannot be misinterpreted. The first is a Russian pejorative meaning “homosexual” and the second, also in Russian is literally “whore.”

“Victor,” Yuuri says, breaking the uncomfortable silence that’s been hanging over us since we arrived, “what does that say?”

I know I should answer, but for some reason, the words just won’t reach my mouth. Yakov translates them in a rough, infuriated voice and Yuuri’s face goes pale.

“It’s aimed at me, Yuuri,” I tell him, finally finding my voice, “I think you know why.”

The reference to homosexuality, of course, refers to my current relationship with Yuuri, while the other word is meant to characterize my sexual history prior to our relationship. This, then, is a very personal attack on me…on us. And the two words painted on the bedroom wall present a big problem.

_How do I explain this to him?_

_While Yuuri also comes from a country where gay marriage is not allowed, the general treatment of gay people in Russia is typically worse than it is in Japan. Of course, in the bigger cities like Saint Petersburg, the gay lifestyle manages to thrive, and for the most part, one can live peacefully with everyone else. But…certain things are complicated when one walks that fine line and whoever did this knows very well what trouble these words will cause, because Yuuri and I have been pretty open about the fact that we love each other._

_Still, did this person or these people do this because of a distaste for our choice to share a homosexual relationship, or did they actually do it specifically because of how it will complicate things?_

“Sh-shouldn’t we call the police?” Yuuri asks softly.

_This is where it gets complicated._

I close my eyes, but I still see the tall, bold letters.

_The words, themselves, don’t hurt me. I am not so young or so naïve to not expect that some people will disagree with my choice to love another man. But everything in me screams that it’s not about that. It’s like I can feel the methodical, intentional application of those words to purposely bring attention to our relationship and to complicate any investigation of the destruction of property. Purposely damaging another person’s home is, of course, against the laws here. However, upon seeing those words painted, especially here, in our bedroom, direct attention will be called to the fact that Yuuri and I are both well-known and openly gay. Depending of the personal views of the officers sent to catalog the damage, what happened could be treated seriously, or the police could choose to take a different path simply because of a more conservative leaning._

_How do I say this to Yuuri?_

_I can’t._

“Victor?” Yuuri queries, laying a hand on my arm.

“We need to cover it,” I say in Russian to Yakov, who flinches, but nods briefly.

I slip a hand into Yuuri’s and give him a tentative smile.

“Don’t worry. I’ll take care of it. But, we should go and get a room at a hotel for the night.”

“But…” Yuuri starts to object.

“I will take care of things here and arrange for additional security for you and Yuuri,” Yakov decides.

I give my mother a meaningful look.

“Mother, will you please go with Yuuri to the hotel? I’m going to stay with Yakov to take care of things.”

“But Victor, I want to stay with you,” Yuuri argues.

“This will take a while,” I explain, “and when we give the police report, there won’t really be anything for you to add. I will take care of it. Please, will you make sure that my mother reaches the hotel safely?”

Yuuri registers the meaning of what I just said and stiffens.

“Do you think that _he_ might try to…?” he begins.

“I don’t know,” I say patiently, "but it’s best to be careful, just in case. Please, Yuuri, go with Mother to the hotel.”

Yuuri bites his lip, looking like he still has an objection, but my mother smiles at him and slips a hand into his.

“Come, we’ll take care of getting the hotel arrangements taken care of, so that you two will have a place to stay tonight.”

I can see clearly he doesn’t like it, but he sees I’m not backing down, so he finally nods and follows her out of the house. Yakov and I stand quietly in the room, in front of the huge, accusing letters. When we speak to each other again, it’s in Russian.

“You understand that this probably has nothing to do with your relationship with Yuuri Katsuki, Vitya?”

“I know,” I acknowledge, “Whether it’s Andrei or Modya, the intent was to make it so I would hesitate to report this to the police. They know that there would be at least some probability that the officers would be less sympathetic and helpful to us if attention was called to our sexual orientation.”

“Regrettably, that is the case,” Yakov agrees.

“Then, you also think that this is not about our relationship, but about me personally?”

“I do.”

I give him a helpless look.

“Yakov, what do I do?”

He’s quiet for awhile before answering.

“I think you need to consider why you’re not telling Yuuri about this. And while you’re thinking about it, we need to do something to get rid of it.”

It’s dishonest, of course, even illegal. But, weighted against discrimination by the police, it’s not completely indefensible. Yakov and I are careful as we alter the wall. When we finish, I call the police to report the crime. The sick feeling I have inside increases steadily as the police sent to the house carefully photograph everything and question Yakov and me. They assure us that everything will be done to find the perpetrator, and then they leave.

“I called for additional security,” Yakov tells me, and I will arrange for bodyguards for all of us. If this is about your skating opponent, that might be a little bit of overkill, but if this is Modya, then it’s also just the beginning. We need to be careful.”

“I know.”

“I need to go over and check in at the ice center,” he tells me, “Do you want to go with me or go on to the hotel to meet Yuuri?”

I look around for a moment, then shake my head.

“I’ll go to Yuuri.”

Yakov nods and starts to walk out. Then, he notices I haven’t moved and looks back at me.

“Are you all right, Vitya? I know it’s upsetting, but it will be fine now. We’ll take precautions.”

“I know we will. I know it will be all right now. I’m just angry.”

“I understand.”

“Whoever did this hates me with a vengeance,” I continue, “It’s more vicious than what I would expect from Andrei, but I can’t rule him out. He did pull that nasty trick before. And when it comes to Modya, he can be horrible. I keep remembering more and more about how horrible he could be.”

“I’m sorry,” Yakov says sympathetically, “Come, Vitya, we should leave now.”

“Go on,” I sigh, “I’ll go on to the hotel from here.”

“You shouldn’t be here alone,” he advises me.

“The police were just here. I’m sure it’s fine. I’ll go in a minute. I just need to…think for a second alone.”

He clearly doesn’t like it, but he doesn’t argue.

“Very well. I will meet you at the hotel for dinner later with Mirra and Yuuri.”

“Fine.”

I wait as he leaves, then I walk through the quiet house again.

_I’ve never felt unsafe in my own home. That someone would come here and do something like this was a complete surprise. I don’t want to let whoever did this win, but…it feels heavy._

I try calming myself with breathing and a little bit of meditation, but it doesn’t help in the slightest. The sedative that I use sometimes is in my bag, which Yuuri took with him to the hotel. I have Stefan’s number, of course, but I can’t bring myself to call him, maybe because I’m sensitive to the fact that Andrei tried to use him against me.

_Am I making excuses?_

I’m very aware that there is liquor in the house. I’d only just returned to my home when Yakov dragged me out to meet Stefan and get that whole thing started. I hadn’t purged my home of temptations.

I try breathing slowly and thinking how I haven’t had a single drop of alcohol since Barcelona.

_I’ve wanted to. I’ve been tempted. I suffered through withdrawal and it’s been better. If I’m not craving it with that ferocity I was before, one drink shouldn’t be a problem, right?_

My heart beast faster and I break out in a sweat, but this isn’t a craving, it’s because I feel guilty having thoughts like that. I’m proud of the progress I’ve made.

_Still, it will just be one serving. Am I really going to need to never drink any alcohol again? That seems like overkill, doesn’t it? If I can control the impulse, that’s really what recovery is about, isn’t it? And besides, this was really upsetting. Added to the plane crash and everything else, it’s not bad to want to feel a little numbness._

Whoever trashed the house didn’t bother with much beyond knocking out the contents of the cupboards. They didn’t break everything. I salvage an unopened bottle and pour out one serving, then a second. It’s more than I planned to have, but it’s not so much, really.

It’s the first time since I was a teenager that I’ve had to hide alcohol on my breath, but I still remember how. And I take a long walk by myself through the nearby park after to give myself more time. I feel guilty as I rejoin Yuuri at the hotel, and his quick questions indicate he was worried.

“Yakov seemed to think you should have been back sooner,” he notes, “What took so long?”

“Oh, I’m sorry, Yuuri,” I apologize, “I was just…upset and I was trying to calm myself with a long walk.”

He looks at me in a way that makes me think he might suspect something isn’t right with me, but he doesn’t press. I think he’s worried about giving me more stress.

“You know that you don’t have to handle everything on your own,” he goes on, “You’ve been under a lot of stress with the plane crash, the reporters earlier, and now this. I’m worried about you. Please, let me at least comfort you.”

_I can’t be alone with him right now. There’s too much of a chance he’ll…_

_Damn it!_

_Stefan already warned me about this! I was stupid to take a drink. I made excuses, but there really isn’t one when I have Yuuri right here and Stefan is a phone call away. Maybe I’m not as strong as I thought I was. Maybe I’m not really in as much control as I convinced myself I was._

_But, I didn’t even get drunk. I just had two, and it didn’t hurt anything! I needed to be soothed, that’s all._

He starts to get closer, but I smile at him and stop him before he can get close enough to kiss me.

_I’m so stupid!_

_Why am I doing this…to us, to Yuuri, to myself?_

“You look really unsettled,” Yuuri observes, “Would you like one of your pills?”

“No.”

_They’re not supposed to be taken with alcohol and they would interact if I had them this close together._

_I really messed up._

“You should come and lie down for a little while,” he suggests.

“I’m actually pretty hungry,” I tell him, “Dinner’s soon, but I need some coffee and something to tide me over. Would you come with me to get that?”

“Sure?” Yuuri says, looking relieved that I’ve not pushed him any further away.

_If you had any idea how small and how weak I am inside, Yuuri. I was trying to protect you, but I ended up lying to you and then doing something even worse by drinking to numb the hurt, then lying about that too._

_Well, I didn’t actually tell a lie to you, because you didn’t suspect what I did._

_It was still wrong, and I can’t let this happen again._

I ask my mother if she’d like to go with us, but she seems content relaxing at the hotel and waiting for Yakov to arrive. Yuuri and I leave the hotel and walk, holding hands.

“You’re still looking really pale,” he notices, “You were looking better when we left Japan, but what happened at the house unsettled you.”

“It did,” I admit, knowing he’d see through it if I tried to lie about that.

_When did I start wanting to lie to him?_

_Yuuri isn’t like everyone else. He sees in a lot deeper, and I’m not likely to be able to fool him for long. I don’t want to keep him in the dark. But when I think about what Stefan said before, about wanting me to commit to an inpatient treatment._

_I don’t want to do that!_

_Why am I afraid of that?_

_I want to get well, right? And if I really want to get well, then I have to acknowledge the problem and do whatever it takes to deal with it. I suppose it all comes down to trust. Do I trust Stefan’s vision more than my own right now? I probably should, because I’m making one bad decision after another and lying to people to cover up those decisions. It’s like a wreck happening in slow motion in front of me, but I can’t make myself move to do anything. I’m so afraid of losing control of my own situation. That’s why I don’t want to commit to an inpatient treatment. As long as I don’t have to do that, as long as I maintain the control of being out here and not in there, I feel safer._

_But it’s not about feeling safe, it’s about being sober._

_What do I do?_

I realize suddenly that we’ve reached the coffee shop and Yuuri’s just watching me and not saying anything. All of a sudden, it feels like a weight to be understood on the level he understands me. I almost can’t stand having him look at me and read what’s in my eyes. I’m not a fucking god, I’m a very flawed, very human person, and I have made a really big mistake. I hate how it feels to look at him and know how wrong I am.

_I feel frozen._

_I can’t take comfort in him if I can’t tell him everything._

_That’s it, right? That’s what’s eating away at me. I screwed up and I really want to tell him and to be comforted because Yuuri knows I’m not a god. He knows just how human I am, and I should be trusting him, not hiding things left and right._

“I need to tell you something,” I say, stopping him outside the shop.

He gives me a tentative look and nods.

“Okay.”

The breath I take before telling him stings my chest and I want to do anything now to stop talking. Still, I am never going to get anywhere if I don’t trust him. I have to trust someone, and he’s the one person who I think will understand.

“I was drinking back at the house. It wasn’t enough to get drunk, but…”

“I know.”

_God, why did I even think he wouldn’t? This is Yuuri. He’s gotten drunk plenty of times, and he would know whether he smelled it on my breath or whether he saw the signs of me trying to hide it._

“How did you know?”

He gives me a patient look that tells me I can’t put something like that past him. It’s actually a relief too.

I start to apologize, but he stops me with a kiss and warm arms around me that feel far stronger than I feel right now. It’s just the support I need, and the only reason I have it is because I stopped being stupid and trusted him.

“Are you going to call Stefan?” he asks.

“I’m seeing him tomorrow. I’ll tell him.”

“Okay.”

There isn’t any more than that. He doesn’t get angry or point out how stupid I am. He doesn’t get upset that I was at first trying to hide it from him. He stays close to me and watches over me.

I’m quiet through dinner and I’m glad when it’s over and Yakov takes my mother to stay with him. Yuuri and I go to our room and we undress. I wrap a robe around myself and head out to the balcony to look at the cloudy sky and let the chill run through my body.

“Aren’t you cold, Victor?”

_I’m the original ice prince. The cold doesn’t hurt me._

“Come back inside.”

_He’s looking at me so strangely?_

_Is he…worried that I’ll do something crazy? That I’ll jump from here? Is that where his mind is going?_

_If it is…does that mean that I’m in that much danger…from myself?_

He extends a hand and I accept it. I go back inside and curl up in bed with him, but it takes me a long time to fall asleep, and that sleep is shattered by a nightmare about falling from a dizzying height and having nothing at all there to break my fall.

But, Yuuri is there, and his arms are comforting. It takes awhile, but the fears go away and I settle down with him again.

_I thought before that I was being stupid, but that was an understatement. When I put that poison in my body today, I undid weeks of progress and now I’ll have to start over again. But it could have been worse, right? What if I hadn’t told him. Would he have called me on it? Would have said anything or would he have kept quiet?_

“Yuuri,” I say suddenly, making his eyes open and look into mine, “will you tell me something?”

He gives me a little nod.

“If I hadn’t told you, would you have said something?”

Yuuri touches my face and smiles at me like I’ve said something ridiculous.

“What do you mean?” he says quietly, “Why would I need to say something? I’ve watched you for a long time. I saw that there was something bothering you, and I just knew that when you were ready, you would tell me.”

_He knows me better than I know myself, and because of that, he knows when to trust his instincts about me._

_On the one hand, I’m so comforted by that._

_And on the other, I’m scared to death of it._


	19. Liquid Seduction

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A tense situation pushes Victor in a dangerous direction.

By morning, I’ve resigned myself to the fact that I had a relapse, and Yuuri, at least, already knows, so there is no path other than to admit what I’ve done to Stefan and then see where we go from there. Unfortunately for me and my still agitated conscience, my meeting with him isn’t until after Yuuri’s and my training at the Ice Center. Yuuri is looking wonderful, but when it’s my turn to skate for Yakov, he can’t find one damned good thing to say about it.

“You look like you’re half asleep! What’s the matter with you?” he complains.

“I didn’t sleep well,” I yawn, turning and executing what, to me, seems like a textbook layback.

“You look like a rag doll! What happened? Did your backbone turn to jelly? Use some posture!”

“Stop yelling at me, Yakov. Or at least stick to yelling at me about one thing at a time.”

“Shut up and start from the beginning!” he scolds me, “If you’re competing in the European Championships and don’t want to embarrass yourself, you need to do better than this!”

“It would look ten thousand times better if you would let me add the jumps in.”

“Well, you can’t do the jumps yet, because you won’t be fully medically cleared for a couple more days, so don’t even think about it, Victor!”

So, I wait until his back is turned and throw a pretty quad lutz, just to spite him. But he turns as I land it and steam practically comes out of his ears.

“VICTOR! YOU ARE NOT CLEARED MEDICALLY TO DO ANY JUMPS, NOW STOP THAT!” he roars.

I cringe and cover my ears, which puts me off balance as I jump into a spin and I lose my balance and fall. The room seems to rock a little, and I don’t get up right away. I’m shocked when Yakov actually comes onto the ice and hauls me to my feet.

“Are you all right, Vitya?” he asks, “Are you still having symptoms from the concussion?”

“Stop it, old man!” I snap back at him, pulling away, “I just lost my balance for a moment because you were yelling at me. I’m fine!”

I’m really not so fine, but to prove my point, I skate away and perform a perfect quad toe loop, triple toe loop.

“VICTOR!”

I call that giving him the _Skater’s Raspberry_. In a way, getting him so pissed off at me is a way of feeling things going back to normal. I suppose they aren’t going to actually _be_ normal again for awhile, but at least one thing in my life can be…

“He’s right. You shouldn’t be doing that, being an older skater and recently injured,” says a mocking voice.

_Andrei!_

_What the everloving FUCK is he doing here?_

I don’t plan it at all, and I’m not even sure how I move so damned quickly, but before I can stop myself, I’ve closed the distance between us and I crash into him at full speed, bringing him down on his back and pinning him on the ice.

“Victor!” Yuuri cries out, skating towards us.

“VITYA, get off of him!” Yakov roars.

I hold back from hitting him, but I leave no question that he is helplessly trapped under me, and I give him a death glare that seems to melt his smug expression into an almost genuinely scared looking one.

“Have you lost your mind?” Yakov scolds me, grabbing me around the waist and dragging me off of him as Yuuri helps, “What are you doing?”

“Victor, stop!” Yuuri gasps.

I loose a scathing burst of extremely nasty curses in Russian as Yakov holds me securely, so I won’t jump on the bastard again. Andrei gets up slowly and brushes the ice off of his workout clothes.

“You really have lost your mind, haven’t you, Victor?” he huffs.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” I hiss, “You don’t train here.”

“He does for now,” Yakov says, still holding me tightly, “A fire damaged his home rink. I was just informed, but I was told your schedule wouldn’t be affected, so I assumed he wouldn’t be here while you were.”

“He probably set that fire, himself!” I spit, “I wouldn’t put it past him.”

“I wouldn’t want to be within a mile of you,” Andrei scoffs, his enraged eyes flashing, “You’re insane!”

“Is that right?” I snarl back at him, “I think you’re lying through your teeth! After what happened at the resort, you probably realized that the only way that you could get anyone to notice you was to start fights with me, since your skating is shit and the media probably wouldn’t want to interview you at all, unless you were throwing trash on someone else!”

“Oh, is that what this is all about?” Andrei huffs, smirking at me, and at the fact that Yuuri is beside me and has a restraining hand on my arm also, “You didn’t like me exposing your little affair with your shrink?”

“There was never any affair and you knew it!” I shout, twisting in Yakov’s arms, “You wanted to get to me and you didn’t care that you were hurting Yuuri and Stefan, who never did a goddamned thing to you!”

It’s probably a good thing Yakov’s pretty strong and can keep his grip, because as much as I don’t get violent, this guy really pushes me.

“Yuuri took down your stupid pictures in a second! No one will believe your lies now. You can spout all of the lies you want and everyone is going to know it’s nothing but garbage, just like _you,_ you son of a bitch!”

“Enough!” Yakov snaps, “Your session is over, Vitya. Get off the ice.”

Yuuri keeps a hold on my arm as Yakov lets go, and we skate to the edge of the ice as Andrei shakes his head and moves to the far side of the rink.

“What did you think you were doing?” Yakov scolds me, while Yuuri steals glances at Andrei as he begins to skate, “He’s baiting you, and you know it. You know better than this, Vitya. You are acting like a goddamned child and you are aware he will take advantage of that! Don’t let him rattle you. There’s only one way to deal with a person like him, and that’s by beating him on the ice!”

“That’s what I was about to do,” I laugh, “W-well, actually, I might have been about to beat him _into_ the ice.”

“DO YOU THINK THAT’S FUNNY? DO YOU THINK AN ASSAULT CHARGE WOULD BE FUNNY TOO, YOU IDIOT? Get out of here and don’t let me see you again until you’re ready to be serious about training and not fighting!”

Yuuri watches me with a befuddled expression as Yakov walks away and I look out to where Andrei is practicing a part of his routine that it looks like he’s been struggling with.

“Victor?” Yuuri says softly.

I pick up a towel and wipe the sweat from my face, my eyes still on Andrei.

“The only way to beat a person like him is on the ice,” I whisper, mostly to myself.

“Victor?” Yuuri says again, blinking.

I glance at the direction Yakov went, smirking as I see he’s busy in his office. Letting out a breath, I step back onto the ice, staying carefully in the open portion and not invading my enemy’s training space. I watch him out of the corner of an eye as I skate in slow figures for a few minutes, as though I’m cooling down. Very quickly, I pick up the section he’s working on and the exact moves that are troubling him. It’s a jump combination that precedes a difficult combination spin. He probably shouldn’t have something that difficult in his program, but he thinks he needs it to win. In any case, I know I can do it ten times better, so I stop doing figures, wait until he sets up to do the piece again, watch him screw it up again, then I perform it, but with ease and perfect flow. I get a little warning twinge in my ankle at the combination jump and Yuuri looks like he’s trying to decide what to do.

The best thing, though, is hearing Andrei’s coach point out the obvious difference between us. I can feel him glowering at me and can’t hold back a little, self-satisfied laugh as I skate back to Yuuri.

“What are you doing?” he whispers, “Yakov is going to yell at you if he sees you didn’t leave. C’mon, we should go now, before he sees you.”

“Don’t worry so much about Yakov,” I chuckle, “He’s all bark and no bite.”

“Victor!”

“All right,” I giggle, “I’ll come now. I was just getting a little revenge.”

“Yeah, I saw that,” he says dryly, “Maybe, in case he’s the person who was crazy enough to mess up your house…”

“ _Our home_ , Yuuri,” I correct him.

“Our home, then,” he goes on, “Maybe if he’s the one who did that, you don’t want to aggravate him and make things even worse.”

“Worse than trashing our home and painting those words on our bedroom wall?” I ask pointedly, “He’d better not dare.”

“Whatever, can we just go, please?” Yuuri complains, “You have an appointment with Stefan, right?”

“Mmhmm.”

_All of a sudden, I don’t feel so good. I’m not looking forward to admitting what happened. I suppose there’s no avoiding it, though._

I change into my street shoes and Yuuri and I start to walk past where Andrei is skating. As we reach the end of the rink, two men in dark colored suits come in through the entry doors and look around. They’re not regular police. I conclude that they must be the additional security Yakov has arranged for us. I smile at the men as Yuuri and I start to pass by them, and one of them meets my eyes and steps into our path.

“Victor Nikiforov?” he inquires.

“Yes, are you the new security Yakov called for us?” I ask.

“No,” he answers in Russian, reaching into his breast pocket and producing a government identification card, “I am Officer Blok and this is Officer Dernov. I understand that your companion, Yuuri Katsuki, is taking up residence in your home?”

Yuuri shivers and takes hold of my arm when the man says his name amidst the Russian words he doesn’t understand.

“We have some questions for the two of you about your companion’s paperwork and residence here.”

“Yuuri is my student,” I say, keeping my voice carefully calm and respectful.

I can see Andrei has stopped skating and he and his coach are watching. Yakov has come out of his office, and is heading our way.

“He has completed all of the required forms, and you have all of his information. My fa--…erm, my coach, Yakov Feltsman, handled the paperwork, himself. Everything should be in order.”

“We just have a few questions for the two of you, if you will come with us.”

“Victor?” Yuuri whispers, shaking a little as the men come closer.

_What do these men want with us?_

_The police couldn’t have figured out that Yakov and I altered the wall in my house…_

“It’s all right, Yuuri,” I tell him in English, “They say they just want to ask some questions about your residency here.”

“I…I filed all of the papers before coming,” Yuuri tells them, “Yakov checked to make sure I did everything correctly.”

“We will need the two of you to come with us,” Officer Blok says again.

I know better than to argue with them.

“Is there something I can do to help you?” Yakov interjects, “I am Victor’s coach.”

“No,” Officer Blok answers, turning his disapproving grey eyes on him, “We just need to speak to Mr. Nikiforov and Mr.Katsuki at our office.”

“Victor is very busy with training. He recently suffered some moderately serious injuries, so I would prefer if he could speak to you here. You are welcome to talk in my office. Do they really need to go somewhere else to talk to you?”

The two men exchange glances.

“We are required to bring them to our office,” Blok says firmly.

“Pardon me, but may I see your identification?” Yakov asks, keeping his tone respectful, “I am only asking because Victor is a celebrity, and he has been the victim of someone’s illegal acts. I don’t know if you are aware, but his house was vandalized.”

“We were informed of that,” Blok says as he and his companion produce their identification and Yakov looks it over.

“They seem legitimate,” he concludes, “But, I would like to request that I should be allowed to transport Victor to and from this meeting, and to attend all questioning. I was his legal guardian until he turned eighteen, and I retain rights to advise him for all legal and medical matters.”

Blok gives him a curt nod.

“You can come too, but we will provide transportation for all of you.”

Yakov looks unhappy, but he knows that we really don’t have a choice. We follow the agents out of the ice center and to a dark colored sedan and Blok holds open the door to the back seat. Yuuri and I climb in on one side, while Yakov goes around to the other. The officers take the two front seats with Blok driving.

I can see Yuuri is shaking, so I hold his hand to comfort him.

“It’ll be okay,” I tell him softly in English, “Just stay calm and do what they tell you.”

“But why did they come and take us like that?” he whispers back, “Are we going to be arrested or something?”

“No. They just want to ask us some questions.”

_I have a feeling it’s more than that, because it seems weird to bring us in over paperwork._

I start to get a little panicky, myself, when they take us to the police station, then lead us to a building behind it. We’re led inside, searched, then sent to separate rooms for questioning. Worried about what could happen, I send Yakov with Yuuri. I’m taken into a small room with a table and several chairs around it. Blok sits down in one chair and I take one across from him. I’m careful to let him talk first. This isn’t local police we’re dealing with, but Russian government, so getting in trouble with them is really not something I want to do.

“Will you just confirm your identity?” Blok asks, taking out a recording device.

“I’m Victor Nikiforov.”

“Age?”

“Twenty-eight.”

“Occupation?”

“I am a figure skater, and also a figure skating coach and choreographer for Yuuri Katsuki of Japan.”

“How long have you been Mr. Katsuki’s coach?”

“Almost nine months.”

Blok looks up from the papers in front of him and meets my eyes.

“Are you and Yuuri Katsuki currently involved in a romantic relationship?”

It was on television, so I know they already know that answer to that.

_Is that the reason why we’re here?_

“Yes.”

“Does that relationship include acts of oral and/or anal penetration?”

_Oh my god, I don’t want to think about poor Yuuri having to answer a question like that!_

“Yes.”

“Mr. Nikiforov, I am sure you are aware that although homosexual acts are not outlawed anymore, you are required to ensure that your sexual acts are kept private?”

“Yes, of course. Yuuri and I are always discreet.”

Blok frowns.

“Your partner was not so discreet announcing your relationship on television,” he answers sternly, “I am sure you know that a recent law change in Russia makes it illegal for our citizens to promote homosexuality to minors.”

“Yuuri wasn’t trying to tell anyone to become homosexual,” I argue, but carefully, “He simply stated that we are partners.”

“ _Lovers_ , he said.”

“Yes, we are lovers, so he was stating a fact.”

“Mr. Nikiforov, we have also seen an interview that you and Mr. Katsuki gave in Japan before your most recent return, and in that interview, you said that you and Yuuri Katsuki are engaged?”

“We are.”

“And you know that such an engagement and/or marriage is not allowed here?”

“Yes.”

“And yet, you state your intent to try to legitimize this illegal arrangement on national television?”

I look back at Blok silently.

“Mr. Nikiforov,” he goes on, “I have been asked to question you, regarding your relationship with Yuuri Katsuki, and how it reflects on this country’s morality. You are a celebrity, so you are in the public eye, and as such, you need to remember that you represent Russia when you compete and…when you give interviews, here or overseas. I suppose if you wish to carry on with a same sex lover, it is your business, but when you start talking on national television about an imaginary marriage, as though it’s real, you tread on the laws of this country.”

_I might be tempted to argue, but I don’t dare. Not if I want Yuuri and me to walk out of this place freely. I did understand that loving Yuuri as I do is something that will make some waves, but I didn’t think that we would attract this much attention. I was stupid. I should have been more careful, and I should have warned Yuuri._

_I hope he is all right._

“I assure you, I did not mean to tread on any laws, and if I have before, I will be more careful now. I will make sure Yuuri understands the expectation as well,” I answer carefully.

_I think what’s more of a sin than homosexuality is this kind of hatred._

“I am glad you are receptive.”

_Like I have a goddamned choice?_

I look back at him quietly for a moment.

“I hope I’ve reassured you about my commitment to representing Russia in the most respectable way,” I say finally, “Given that, will Yuuri and I be allowed to go?”

Blok looks back down at the papers in front of him.

“We need to confirm a few things in Mr. Katsuki’s paperwork, so he will be transferred to holding for the night.”

“What? You’re going to jail him?’ Why?” I ask.

My heart starts pounding and my head aches from the throbbing in my veins.

“He is not going to be questioned any further or harmed. We are just required to hold him until we receive the reply from Japan on his paperwork.”

“But…why do you have to hold him? That’s not usually done. I’ve known people who came to Russia to train, and I’ve never heard of this.”

“Mr. Nikiforov, you are free to go.”

“I can’t leave him here!” I shout, not meaning to be troublesome, but I know Yuuri, and he will be scared out of his mind, “Yuuri doesn’t speak the language. He doesn’t know what is going on!”

“My partner will have had Mr. Feltsman explain things to him.”

“But Yuuri is training for the Four Continents competition. Any interruption in his training schedule will…”

“Mr. Nikiforov, I’m sorry. There is nothing I can do. I’ll need you to calm down and please leave the building or you will be arrested for disturbing the peace and interference with an officer of the government.”

Every instinct I have is screaming for me to argue more, but I know what can happen if I do, and it’s not going to help. It may hurt things if they take out their frustrations on Yuuri. There’s nothing I can do, but walk out to where Yakov is waiting with Officer Dernov.

“Where is Yuuri?” I ask Yakov.

“He’s been taken to a holding cell for the night,” he answers, “I’m trying to work on getting him released. I want you to go back to the hotel and wait for me to call you. Do not argue with these men, Victor. Let me handle things, all right?”

I can’t answer, but I nod and head out of the building. I summon a ride back to the hotel and go up to our room. My phone buzzes as I enter, and I see messages from Stefan and my mother. I read Stefan’s first.

_Victor,_

_I heard about you and Yuuri being taken in for questioning. Please call me and let me know if there’s anything either of you needs. I have to reschedule with you for early next week, because Filip’s father just passed away, and we’re going to be out of town. You can still call me to talk, if you need to._

_Stefan_

I’m a little relieved in that having to tell him about my relapse, especially with everything else wasn’t something I was looking forward to doing. I text him back a brief message, then look at my mother’s text.

_Vitya,_

_I heard about the authorities coming to question you. Are you all right? Do you want me to come?_

I text back to say I’m all right and explain what’s happening with Yuuri. She asks again if she should come to me, and I tell her I’m going to shower and get some rest. I set my phone on the nightstand and slip my shoes off, before sitting down on the bed with my back against the wall and my knees pulled up and hugged to my chest. I close my eyes and try not to see mental pictures of Yuuri, cringing in the dark corner of a cold, lonely cell, crying his eyes out because he's so scared and I’m not there to comfort him.

The weight of that is heavy, and it swiftly becomes crushing. My heart races so fast that it hurts and my head throbs harder from that and the healing concussion.

_God, I just need to hear his voice!_

_I need to know he’s okay._

_What is Yakov doing? Can he get Yuuri out of there? Can he do that? Is Yuuri even really safe there?_

I start to really get terrified, with my mind going all kinds of dark places. I put up with it for as long as I can, then I find myself aching to numb everything again.

_I know I told Yuuri I would tell Stefan about what happened before. I will, but he won’t be back for awhile. Yakov is busy trying to help Yuuri and I don’t want to worry Mom._

_What do I do?_

_What can I do?_

_Why do I have to feel so helpless?_

_And if I’m this bad, what is Yuuri enduring, locked up alone there?_

In the end, I just can’t take it anymore, as the hours go by and Yuuri still doesn’t come back. I open the liquor cooler in the room and start to drink. I drink until the sound of Yuuri’s crying fades out of my tortured mind, until the images of him being scared and hurt get distorted, and I can’t form coherent thoughts anymore. I collapse onto the bed in a stupor and everything goes quiet and grey for how long, I don’t know. It’s still before dawn, when the door to the room opens and Yuuri steps inside and turns on the light.

“V-victor?” he calls shakily.

I lift my head and see Yuuri, looking pale as a ghost, but all right, and Yakov standing behind him. I get up and stumble to him, wrapping my arms around him as the two of us fall onto our knees, holding each other.

“Are you all right?” I ask breathlessly.

“Yeah. Yakov called the authorities in Japan and worked things out so that they released me.”

“No one hurt you?”

“No. I was just in a room by myself. No one bothered me at all.”

“Okay.”

“I’ll leave you two now,” Yakov says, “Call me right away if you need anything.”

Yuuri watches the door close, then he draws back a little and looks more closely at me.

“You were drinking, Victor?” he asks, “You were drinking a lot?”

“I’m sorry, Yuuri,” I apologize, “Yakov told me to stay here, and I couldn’t do anything to help you. I was scared to death. I didn’t know if they would let you go, or if they would take you somewhere else or deport you without telling me. All kinds of things were going through my head.”

“Why didn’t you call Stefan?” he asks in a wounded voice, “He said he’s there for you any time.”

“Filip’s father passed away, so Stefan is dealing with that.”

“And what about your mom? Why didn’t you let her come to be with you, if you were worried like that? Victor, you had other options. Why did you do this?”

I know why, but it’s so fucking humiliating to admit it. I don’t want to, but I can see that it’s the only thing I can say, and it is the truth.

“I drank because I’m an alcoholic and that’s what an alcoholic does when he is frightened, or sad, or tortured with worry. Yuuri, I am sorry. I know I had better choices I could have made, but honestly, all I could think of was you.”

“No,” Yuuri says in a voice that’s not loud or angry, just matter-of-fact, “because if I was really what was most important to you, you would have taken better care of yourself…because you would know that you’re who _I_ most worry about, and you wouldn’t want to worry me by hurting yourself like this.”

The words hit me like a shower of ice cold water and I sink the rest of the way to the floor and start to cry silently and inconsolably.

“Are you going to leave me, Yuuri?” I sob in something barely above a whisper.

“No,” he says, petting my hair and rubbing my back, “If you love someone, you don’t leave them because they make a mistake and need help. You help them.”

“What are you going to do?”

I sound like a scared little kid when I ask.

“I’m going to stay close to you and make sure you don’t drink until Stefan comes back, and when he comes back, I’m going with you to talk to him about everything.”

He puts an arm around me and helps me back onto my feet and into bed, where I lock my body around his and he holds onto me with equal ferocity.

I feel his love all through my body and I can’t forgive myself now for letting both of us down. But one of the things that comforts me is what Stefan told me about him hitting rock bottom. He lost something that could never be regained. I still have Yuuri with me, and a chance to turn myself around.

I’ve failed both of us, but it isn’t the end.

When Stefan comes back, I’m going to put everything I have into beating this addiction.

I won’t lose Yuuri.

And, by god, I won’t let him lose me.


	20. Brutal Cure for a Hangover

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Victor suffers through a difficult day after his relapse.

It was almost morning when Yuuri came back to the hotel, and it took us awhile to calm down after everything and sleep. Once I’m down, I sleep like a log, holding onto Yuuri like I’m scared I’ll lose him in just the darkened room. But even when I do sleep, it’s uneasy, and I can’t escape the ugly feeling of guilt because as soon as I could find an excuse, I was drinking again. I fell apart completely last night and I feel horrible about it. That makes me sleep very poorly and leaves me a ragged mess in the morning that bears little resemblance to what the outside world knows as Victor Nikiforov.

_Oh god, my head hurts!_

_Can I just go back to sleep?_

_Yuuri, how can you even think of getting up?_

_Please don’t move the fucking bed!_

_OW!_

_Oh…I feel so bad. Just kill me and get it over with…_

“Victor,” Yuuri calls softly, nudging me, “wake up. It’s time to go to practice.”

“Ugh!” I groan, hiding my head under the pillow and pushing his hand away, “Stop it, Yuuri. Come back to bed. No practice today. We didn’t sleep enough!”

I want to kill him when he nudges me again.

“Come on, I made some coffee to help wake you up. Get up, Victor. We need to go soon.”

“Nnnnoooooooooo!” I groan.

I cringe and squint in the bright morning light when he pulls the pillow away suddenly.

“Yuuri!” I complain, “Let me sleep. I feel sick today.”

“You feel sick,” he repeats, crossing his arms, “Why is that? Are you really sick or just hung over from drinking last night?”

“I said I was sorry. Leave me alone. I just need a little longer. Yuuri can go ahead and I’ll come later.”

I can feel the stern look he gives me without peeking.

“We barely got any sleep. Don’t be mean, Yuuri!”

“Well, you shouldn’t get so sulky just because you did something wrong and now you’re going to be in trouble with Yakov and me for it. Here, have some coffee and then go take a shower.”

I sit up and scowl at him as he hands me the coffee, but I take a few sips as he sits down and fiddles with his phone.

“Are you going to shower with me at least?” I ask him.

He gives me a disapproving frown.

“I don’t think you deserve to have me shower with you today. You should hurry or Yakov will be more angry with you.”

I deflate a little and give him a petulant scowl as I head for the bathroom. The shower does help me wake up a little, but I still feel sluggish and my head and stomach ache. It’s lonely without Yuuri and I hate knowing he’s angry with me too. I know I deserve the stern treatment, but it really sucks and I can’t help feeling sulky. I lean against the shower wall and close my eyes, letting the hot water splash all over me. I stay there for a long time, looking down at my naked body and feeling depressed. But while I’m doing that, I start to think about everything that’s happened. I drank too much in Barcelona and I could have died that night. I was in a plane crash and I could have died then. Someone vandalized Yuuri’s and my home, but they could have hurt us. I drank again because twice I got really worried about something that could hurt Yuuri and me. But even though he’s angry at me and I’m going to be in trouble with Yakov, then with Stefan when he comes back, I’m still alive and Yuuri is okay, and still with me. I don’t feel much better, but I do feel calmer as I turn off the shower and dry myself. I put on a robe and go back out into the room. Yuuri is still sitting where he was, waiting for me, and I suddenly notice then that the liquor cooler has been emptied. He notices me looking and meets my eyes squarely.

“I asked them to take it away, and when we go to hotels from now on, we’ll ask them to make sure it’s not in the room.”

I want to be sulky about him treating me like a misbehaving child, but I did hurt both of us by acting like one, so I just quietly nod and walk over to change. When we’re dressed, we walk over to the ice center together. I’m usually talkative, but I don’t say anything this time. Even when Yurio meets up with us for the last part of the walk, I’m quiet.

“What’s wrong with you, Victor?” Yurio complains, “You look like crap. I heard you got taken away yesterday from the ice rink by guys in suits or something. What was that about?”

“Oh, they just had some questions about my paperwork,” Yuuri sighs.

“Paperwork?” Yurio repeats, “They hauled you down there to talk to you about paperwork? That sounds like some bullshit. Why did they really drag you down there?”

“They were hassling us about saying we are engaged and planning to marry,” I say, matter-of-factly, “They were just making sure we know it wouldn’t be valid here, and we have to be careful not to say too much publicly about our relationship.”

“That sucks,” he sighs.

“Yes, it does,” I agree.

“Huh,” Yurio huffs, frowning and looking more closely at me.

His eyes narrow and get angry again, then he hits me on the arm.

“Ow! Don’t do that, shithead!” I yell at him.

“You moron!” he snaps, “You’re looking like crap because you were out drinking again! What’s wrong with you? You’re being even more stupid than usual.”

I don’t even argue with him, which surprisingly shuts him up faster than usual, and with less insults.

_Maybe I should try that more often with him._

“You’re lucky katsudon will put up with your shit. I wouldn’t,” he says shortly.

He spots Otabek waiting for him at the ice center’s entrance and runs ahead, leaving Yuuri and me alone. We still don’t talk the rest of the way inside, where we put on our skates and Yuuri heads out to practice. I’m on the ice, but he’s pretty much ignoring me, except when I’m talking to him about his skating. I try to just focus on coaching, but it sucks that we don’t even smile during the whole practice, and at the end, he skates off without our usual ice dance. He takes off his skates and sits outside the rink, looking at his cell phone while I warm up.

Once Yakov arrives, I begin working. I’m careful from the start to obey him about not doing any jumps. And even though he grouches at me and nitpicks, I don’t say anything back. He starts to look flustered at how I’m behaving, then he notices Yuuri’s kind of ignoring me.

“What’s going on with the two of you?” he asks.

We’re within Yuuri’s hearing, and he looks at me expectantly.

“Yuuri and I had an argument, because when he didn’t come back last night, I started drinking again. He didn’t like it, so he’s punishing me by not paying attention to me. You’re starting to look angry also. Do you want to punish me too?”

He just gives me a scathing look.

“Go work on your spin combinations,” he snaps, turning his back on me.

_Great. Can this day get any worse?_

_Spins?_

_Oh god, I’ll throw up._

_But, then again, that’s the point, isn’t it?_

_Can’t anyone be nice to me today?_

I hear Yuuri make a sound of disapproval, and I follow his gaze and spot Andrei arriving to warm up before his session. Surprisingly, he looks at me, then at Yuuri with a strange expression. He stays carefully at the other end of the ice rink and avoids our eyes.

_What’s with him?_

I shake my head and start the work on spins. And even though I’m feeling sick after less than a minute, I keep at it. I continue until I’m dizzy and so nauseous that I have to leave the ice to throw up in a trash can, since there’s not enough time to get my skates off and get to the restroom. Yuuri starts to get a guilty expression and bites at his lips, but Yakov just growls something about me being lazy and stalks away. I sit on a bench and put my face in my hands. I hear someone approaching and I assume it’s Yuuri.

“Not now, Yuuri. I think I’m going to throw up again.”

“Victor, I want to talk to you for a second.”

_Andrei?_

_Shit…_

“I don’t need this right now,” I groan, “Go away.”

“I’m not here to fight,” he says hesitantly.

I drag my sweating face out of my hands and suck in a breath. It’s a mistake and I end up bending over the trash can to vomit again.

“Can we do this later?” I ask, between heaves, “I’m a little busy right now.”

“I just want to say that I really didn’t think before giving that interview.”

_What?_

“You need to tell me that? You think I don’t know already?” I groan, “Why aren’t you going away?”

“I didn’t think Yuuri would come right out and say you were lovers. I mean, who could have known he would do something like that? I didn’t expect it would get the attention of the authorities. I really didn’t want that.”

“No? Well, here is a newsflash. When you publicly try to say that I’m fucking another man who isn’t my partner on national television, you’re asking for trouble in the first place, and when you attack us like that, Yuuri isn’t going to keep quiet, because he doesn’t know…or, at least, he didn’t know to be careful what he said.”

“I’m sorry, Victor.”

_The shithead actually sounds sincere…but, I am still hung over. Maybe I’m not reading this right. He could be up to something, right?_

“You’re sorry…”

“Yes. I didn’t know they’d just show up here and take you away like that. I mean, I think you’re kind of a stuck up jerk.”

“Funny, that’s what I think of you too,” I chuckle sarcastically.

“I still want to beat you in competition.”

“Good luck with that. You know, if you drive me to drink a little more by screwing with my life, you may get your wish.”

“Hey, I said I was sorry about that. I was playing some head games, but I didn’t mean for it to go that far. I’m still going to try to beat you, but I’ll stop the other shit. I don’t want anyone to really get hurt, you know.”

“You’re a fucking prince, Great. Now, will you please let me vomit in peace?”

_How much does it suck that the only one being nice to me today is this asshole who hates me?_

I know he doesn’t really hate me. He’s just jealous because he wants to be the one kissing the gold medal. He’s hungry for that. What figure skater isn’t? He’ll do it or he won’t. What I do doesn’t matter at all in that.

Or does it?

I look up at Yuuri, who is back to looking at his phone, then I look for Yakov, but he’s disappeared.

_Well, if that’s how they want to be…_

I abandon the trash can and head over to where Andrei is working on that same frustrating segment of his program, and I watch as he repeatedly makes the same mistake. His coach shakes his head and tries to be encouraging, but I can see he doesn’t think this guy will get it. I think Andrei can do it, but he needs a little something…and he was a little nice to me, so why not, right?

“Would you like me to show you?” I ask.

Andrei’s coach stares at me in complete shock and Andrei looks taken aback, but he manages a nod and he does watch closely as I perform the segment, then break down the moves to pinpoint his problem. It takes a half hour of repeated attempts, but by then, he begins to land the jumps with more confidence, and he heads into his combination spin with better flow. Satisfied with his progress, I start to leave them, but Andrei stops me.

“Victor, why did you do that?” he asks.

I look back at Yuuri, who is stealing glances at me, even though he’s trying to look like he’s still ignoring me.

“Because, if it stops Yuuri from being hurt and scared again like he was yesterday, then I will work with the devil, himself. I will do what I have to do, so that you will leave him alone.”

“But I already said I wouldn’t do anything else.”

“And I just showed you my gratitude,” I say shortly, “If you want anymore help with your jumps, you’ll need to pay me a jump consultant’s fee.”

I skate away, leaving him staring after me.

_I still wonder if he was the one who trashed our house…but he said that he was just playing games and didn’t mean for anyone to get really hurt. What happened at the house was vicious. I think this makes it clear that the person who trashed the house must have been Modya. And if he did that, then what will he do next?_

I’m still thinking about that, when I hear music start to play in front of me, and I see Yuuri in his skates and standing on the ice, with his back to me.

I admit, part of me wants to ignore him, like he was ignoring me before. But I was feeling so sad and so lonely before that my thirst for closeness with him is too strong. If I’m addicted to liquor, I’m twice as addicted to Yuuri. I have no defense against this very obvious attempt to reconnect. I take the bait without hesitation and skate to him. He smiles when my arms wrap around him, and he kisses me on the cheek.

“So, you forgive me, Yuuri?” I ask him.

“I can’t help it,” he sighs, “I hate seeing you suffer like that.”

“You were the one making me suffer,” I remind him, “You can’t complain about not liking to see it.”

“I didn’t want to see you suffer,” he complains, “And I wasn’t the one who made you drink, Victor.”

“I know,” I agree, turning him, then wrapping my arms around him as we dance together on the ice, “I admitted that from the start. You didn’t need to torture me by being so mean and not talking to me. You made me desperate enough to go make peace with Andrei, and how humiliating was that, do you think?”

“I didn’t tell you to go and help him!” Yuuri objects, “Why would you want to, anyway? He accused you of cheating on me.”

“He apologized for attracting the attention of the authorities,” I explain, “I thought that if I make peace with him, he’ll leave us alone. I also think that he couldn’t be the one who trashed the house. Andrei was being a prick, but he didn’t mean to get anyone really hurt.”

“Just publicly humiliated,” Yuuri huffs, “and he tried to break us up. Aren’t you still angry about that?”

“Of course I am. It just seems like the better choice is to let the man apologize and make sure he just leaves us alone.”

“And you don’t care if he beats you at the European Championships because you helped him?”

“Yuuri, bite your tongue! For shame, saying something like that. Andrei is not going to beat me. I promise I’ll work hard to make sure he doesn’t.”

“You mean, when you’re done being hung over?” Yuuri teases me.

“Stop that,” I snap, pushing him up against the ice rink wall and kissing him hungrily.

“V-victor, stop!” he complains, pushing me away.

I move back a little, looking at him and frowning.

“Yuuri…?”

“We…we aren’t supposed to carry on in public, where anyone could see us. Weren’t you listening yesterday to those men?”

“I was,” I sigh, “and we do have to be careful. But we will still hug and kiss each other.”

“I want to, but yesterday, that really scared me.”

“I know. It scared me too, especially when they held you there, and I didn’t know what they were doing to you. Yuuri, I said I was sorry for drinking again, and I meant it. It was a mistake, and you’re right that I could have made a better choice. I will try to do that in the future.”

“I know you will.”

We dance a little more, then head over to take off our skates. Yuuri’s quiet for awhile, thinking, but he speaks up while we’re on the bench together.

“Victor, are we still gonna get married?” he asks.

“Yes,” I answer, wrapping my arms around him and holding him tightly as I whisper more into his ear, “But I think that, when that time comes, we will be leaving Russia…for good.”


	21. Reckoning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Victor and Yuuri move into their home and prepare to meet with Stefan about Victor's relapse.

Although things are better after the day following my latest relapse, they remain a little strained while we wait for Stefan’s return. Only part of the problem is that Yuuri struggles to trust I won’t drink again the second he turns his back. The other part of our problem is that while we remain in the hotel, waiting for the house repairs, he seems worried about us being watched by the government. And given the scare we both got that day when those officers showed up and took us away to be questioned, I understand…even if my carnal needs are strong enough to belay the fears more than his do. So, I don’t put pressure on him to be intimate with me. Instead, we pour all of our sexual urges into our training. The result? Yuuri’s Eros program becomes almost torture for me to watch anymore, because he is so very desirable and I am so incredibly hungry for him. He seems just as riled when he watches me skate, but as soon as we leave the ice center, we fall back into this strange, more distant place.

Well, at least, until the last of the repairs to our home are finished and we get to move in. This happens just a day before Stefan’s scheduled return, so we’re still a little tense with each other, but Yuuri relaxes visibly as we arrive at the house and I open the front door to let him in.

The house smells like fresh paint and since some time has passed, my things have been returned from Japan and placed within, making the formerly sparsely decorated home look much more like it did before I dropped everything and went to Japan.

That is, with one exception.

What Yuuri didn’t see when we came here and the house was damaged, was that I was having the master suite altered to add a second walk-in closet and I was having the master bathroom expanded and made to look similar to the hot spring at Yutopia Katsuki. He didn’t see this because that area was covered during the reconstruction, so when we entered the master bedroom before, that area wasn’t visible.

“Wow, this looks amazing,” Yuuri breathes softly, looking around, “I mean, I saw your Instagram posts sometimes that included little glimpses, but to be here for real…”

“You’re still talking like a fan,” I snicker, “Come, Yuuri, this is our home now. You should look at all of it, now that it’s repaired. I also added something special that I think you’ll really like.

I walk him through everything but the master suite, showing him where everything is. When we get to the guest room, he steps inside and looks back at me with a funny, quizzical expression.

“This is the guest room,” I explain, “You’re not a guest. You’re my lover, so you will share my room…if that’s all right with you. I suppose if you want your own space…”

“Eh, no!” he almost shouts, making us both laugh.

He blushes so cutely!

“I mean, I want to share your room. I just wasn’t sure if you wanted your own space.”

“I have enough space,” I answer, “I came looking for you because there were spaces I wanted to fill. And, after all, I told you I want you to stay close to me, not down the hall from me.”

“Victor,” he giggles, blushing brighter.

I lead him to the bedroom door, and for a moment, our smiles fade as we recall the damage that was done by the intruder before.

“I was having a little bit of work done on the master suite to make it just perfect for us. You might have seen that I had a second walk-in closet added for you.”

I open the door to the bedroom, and Yuuri’s face lights up as he sees the huge, soft bed, the two dressers and two large walk in closets, a lovely bay window that looks out into the garden in the backyard and on the restored walls, framed portraits of each of us individually, as well as one taken from our pairs dance at the Grand Prix Final celebration.

“Wow!” he manages breathlessly.

“It says _home_ to you, _da_?”

“Oh, yes it does! It’s just perfect, Victor! I love it.”

I walk to the master bathroom door and put a hand on the handle.

“And here is the biggest surprise,” I chuckle, “I actually contracted this before I knew you would come and live with me. I was afraid that when I came back to Russia, I would miss Japan and you too much. I’m glad to have you, and I think we’ll both enjoy this little bit of Japan, right here.”

I open the door to reveal the expanded bathroom and large jacuzzi tub that was fashioned after the hot spring in Yutopia Katsuki.

“Oh my god, _Victor_!” Yuuri gasps, staring in disbelief.

“It’s not as big, because that wouldn’t fit, even in the expanded bathroom,” I explain, “and it’s a jacuzzi, not a real hot spring, but it does remind you of home, doesn’t it?”

“Oh, yes! Yes, it does!” he laughs excitedly.

He turns and throws himself into my arms.

“It’s wonderful, Victor! Thank you!”

“Should we try it out?”

His blush gets even darker, and he nods instead of answering out loud. We’re out of our clothes in seconds, and sinking down into the hot, bubbling water.

“Wow, I like this!” he says enthusiastically.

“And there are low and high settings for the jets.”

“It feels really good, especially after our workout, _ne_?”

“It does,” I agree, moving in closer and kissing his cheek, then tentatively touching my lips to his.

He shivers a little, and I can see a hint of distress in his eyes.

“It’s okay, Yuuri,” I reassure him, “This is our home.”

“I know,” he whispers, resting his head on my shoulder, “I’m sorry. I’m still just a little scared.”

“Because of what happened before,” I conclude, “Yuuri, I understand. I’ll understand too, if you are regretting moving to Russia now. It’s only been a short time and several bad things have happened. But remember that we have additional security protecting us and our home now. And also remember that the officers specifically said that we should confine our intimate activities to our home. We are in our home now, and what happens here is strictly between us. You don’t need to be afraid.”

Yuuri’s eyes tear a little.

“You’re right,” he sighs, “I’m being stupid, I guess.”

“It’s okay,” I reassure him, “We’re safe here, in our home.”

I kiss him again and slide onto his lap, wrapping my arms around him. I start a slow grinding motion against him, probing his mouth with my tongue and smiling as he looses a long breath and relaxes more into our hot, open-mouthed kisses. I run kisses along the side of his neck, nibbling as I go, and I lift my bottom suggestively, inviting his fingers to begin a gentle invasion.

We haven’t had sex in close to a week, so we both get hard quickly, and I’m impatient, barely letting him prepare me at all before pushing down onto his thickness.

“Victor!” he pants into my shoulder, his hands open and wrapping around my ass, then clenching and squeezing, “Oh!”

I arch my back, closing my eyes and riding his cock, hard and fast. I feel one of his hands curl around my desperately throbbing penis, and he slides it up and down the slick shaft as we move together. It hurts a little when he bucks his hips upward, but the impact drives me quickly to the ends of my endurance.

“Yuuri!”

My eyes open and gaze down into his as he quivers and his body begins to shudder in release. I let him fill me with his hot seed, then as he’s sagging back, I move suddenly, sliding off his lap and turning him so that he grabs onto the edge of the pool. I slide in between his legs and try to prepare him a little. But he groans and yanks me closer, offering his bottom shamelessly. I enter as slowly as I can, but he pushes back against me, forcing me in deeper, until we’re fully joined again. I lay over his back, lacing our fingers together as I take my pleasure. It’s not long before I’m overcome, and I loose myself into him and collapse onto his back.

Aftera few minutes of recovery, we slide down into the water, turning into each other’s arms. We continue to exchange slow, deep kisses, enjoying the little dizzy feeling that comes with our completion.

“Now this feels like home,” Yuuri sighs sleepily, holding my hand under the water, “Victor and Yuuri’s home.”

“Our home,” I agree.

Yuuri curls up against my shoulder and we rest quietly for awhile in the gently bubbling water. It really does feel like home in a way it never did when I lived here alone. It’s like I purchased it without really understanding the dream that drove me to do that. I always thought it was a special place, but it somehow seemed lonely too, until he came here.

Now, it’s perfect.

“I love you.”

The words slip out of his mouth unexpectedly, and I can’t help smiling and kissing the warm lips that say them so sweetly.

“I love you too.”

“I’m sorry I was so…eh…I was so…”

“You were afraid,” I finish for him, “I was scared too. It’s okay. We’re safe in our home, Yuuri.”

Now he’s smiling too.

“Yeah,” he agrees, “I feel like we are.”

“It’s going to be all right now, I promise. We do have to be more careful in public places, but here, we can just be who we are.”

I feel a twinge of guilt, thinking of how things were different in Japan, and I took him away from that. Thinking about it now, it seems selfish. But at the same time, I don’t know how we could have worked things out differently. I needed to return to Russia. My home and my coach are here. For the rest of my career, I need to stay here. Maybe after I retire from skating, we can move somewhere else that is more accepting of homosexuality. But for now…I think we can make this work.

And who knows?

Maybe the world will change for the better while we wait.

My cell phone rings suddenly, and we’re jarred a little out of the little paradise we were in. I pick up the phone and touch the button to accept the call.

“Hello, Stefan,” I greet my counselor, “Are you back already? I thought you were coming back tomorrow.”

“Well, all of the observances and such were done, and Filip really needed to get back for work, so we came back today instead. I just wanted to confirm we are meeting tomorrow…or, if you want, we could have dinner tonight and talk tonight instead.”

I glance at Yuuri and mouth, “ _He wants to have dinner._ ”

Yuuri nods.

“Dinner tonight would be great,” I answer, “Actually, Yuuri and I were just able to move back into our home. Why don’t you come over and Yuuri and I will prepare something?”

“That sounds good. What time would you like me to be there?”

“Ah, about five would be fine.”

“That works for me too,” he agrees.

I end the call and look back at Yuuri, feeling a return of anxiety.

“He’ll be here around five,” I tell him, “I’d better figure out what to serve and do a little shopping. Do you want to come?”

“Sure.”

We climb out of the tub and dry off, then walk out into the bedroom to dress. I realize that I forgot my phone in the bathroom and go back in to get it. As I pick it up, I see there’s a text and I open it to find a short, but unnerving message.

_You’ve always been trouble, just like your adulterous father. Don’t think that I’m going to just let you take her away from her family. She belongs with me, and I will take her back. It doesn’t matter how many guards you put around yourselves. I will take back what’s mine!_

He’s been careful to use a disposable phone, so there’s no way to answer, and I know better than to fan flames like that.

“Victor, are you all right in there?” Yuuri calls from the doorway.

_I don’t want to worry him. We have guards, and I will tell Yakov about this immediately, so that he’s aware._

_Modya is just trying to intimidate me._

_I won’t let him. I’m not a little child anymore._

“I’m fine,” I tell Yuuri, walking back out into the bedroom to finish dressing.

We head out to the store on foot and buy ingredients for katsudon pirozhkis, figuring it’s the perfect first meal to make in our home. By the time we get back, there’s just enough time to make the pirozhkis before Stefan arrives and knocks on the door.

As much as I try not to be, I feel unnerved and anxious all through dinner, so I’m quiet. Stefan is a very perceptive person, and he notices that I’m not as talkative or cheerful as usual. As dinner winds down and we have coffee and dessert, he glances from Yuuri to me and back again, and he clears his throat softly.

“I uh, notice that it looks like something is on your mind, Victor,” he says finally, “Is there something you want to talk to me about?”

I exchange glances with Yuuri, and to my surprise, rather than looking stern, he gives me an encouraging nod and takes my hand in his. It’s so strange. I was really nervous before, but feeling his touch somehow makes me feel like everything will be okay. I take a breath and nod at Stefan.

“There is,” I affirm, “The last week has been rough.”

“Oh? Wait, that’s right. You were in a plane crash on the way to Japan…”

“I’m not talking about that,” I explain, “I’m recovering well from that. But, when I came back to Russia and I brought Yuuri for the first time to our home, we found that it had been vandalized.”

“That’s terrible,” Stefan says in a concerned tone.

“What made it worse is that there were some words painted onto our bedroom wall that were slurs referring to our homosexual love.”

Stefan’s breath catches for a moment.

As someone also living in Russia and carrying on a gay relationship, he knows exactly the dilemma we were in.

“To make things worse, as we returned from Japan, we were met by reporters who had done an interview with that skater who troubled us at the skating resort.”

“Right,” Stefan sighs, “I saw on TV when the reporters were talking to Yuuri and you at the airport. You know, Filip had a pretty strong reaction to Andrei’s interview.”

“He did?” Yuuri says worriedly, “Did he believe what that guy said?”

“I don’t think he wanted to, but it was hard for him, you know?”

“Yeah,” Yuuri says, lowering his eyes, “I can understand.”

Stefan gives Yuuri a grateful smile.

“But, even though he was anxious about it all, when he heard what you said, it really helped him to realize that Andrei was lying. He just wanted to cause trouble. Things were okay after that. So…just so you know, both Filip and I are thankful that you could refute what he said.”

“Yuuri was amazing,” I agree, “Unfortunately, his announcement of our love didn’t go over well with the Russian authorities, and they brought Yuuri and me in for questioning. They just talked to me a little and gave me a warning to keep our personal life private, but they decided to detain Yuuri overnight.”

“I see,” Stefan said, rubbing his chin and looking at me, “So, you are telling me, Victor, that while under the stress, you had a relapse? You started drinking?”

“I did,” I confess, “After finding that our home had been vandalized and having to clean up the foul words before the police could see them, I drank just two servings, but while Yuuri was being detained and I was alone at the hotel, I drank until I was well past legally drunk.”

I see his expression and frown curiously.

“You don’t look surprised,” I say cautiously, “You expected I would fail to quit drinking like I’d planned? You saw my weakness?”

Stefan lets out a little breath.

“Not weakness,” he says bracingly, “I saw your humanity. Victor, _everyone_ who is recovering from alcoholism is going to have setbacks. Everyone. Learning to cope without alcohol is a process, not just an act of will. Yes, I knew that you would have challenges, and that sometimes you would fail to abstain. Failing, feeling bad about it, getting up the courage to try again…that’s all part of the process.”

“But what do I do?” I ask anxiously, “I mean, it’s not like I didn’t have other choices I could have made. I talked myself out of the other options and I went out of my way to choose to drink. I hurt myself, and I hurt Yuuri. Things have been…tentative between us since then. Until today, at least, when we moved into our home. We’re just getting back to feeling kind of normal again. Stefan, I don’t want to hurt Yuuri and I don’t want to hurt myself. What can I do so that the next time I am challenged, I will make a better choice?”

The answer, when he gives it, surprises me. He takes my hands in his and looks into my eyes as he says it.

“Victor, you need to first forgive yourself for being human, for being imperfect. Recovery is all about learning who you are and what your challenges are, then how to find the strength to meet those challenges. It’s about…knowing where to find support, and learning how to convince yourself that it’s okay to ask for that help. It’s about falling and getting up…making mistakes and trying again. It’s about building a path that’s going to lead you in a better direction.”

“But, how do I do that? I don’t know how.”

Stefan gives me a sympathetic smile.

“Look at me, look at Yuuri and your father and mother. Look at your friends. They are all your support system, and they all want just as much as you do, to see you win this battle. So, when you feel alone and you feel challenged, I want you to reach out…and please trust all of us to reach back.”


	22. Our Piece of Heaven

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> During a walk with Stefan, Victor begins to sort out his feelings and his fears about inpatient treatment.

I’m fully aware that Yuuri and I still face a lot of challenges. For one thing, my struggle with alcoholism is going to be a constant issue, even with the very competent help we’re getting from Stefan. In addition to that, there is my bastard not-father, who threatens to take away my mother, and poses a threat to Yuuri and me. If that’s not enough, Yuuri and I have to be cautious of our behavior in public, so that we don’t draw the attention of the government for the terrible crime of being gay lovers in an anti-gay leaning country. But even with all of those challenges, I am in a better, happier place than I ever have been.

I open my eyes and I’m lying in my own bed in the same house as ever, but I’m not alone anymore. Lying cuddled in my arms is the tastiest, cutest and sweetest little pork cutlet bowl ever known to mankind. And my adorable katsudon is sleeping naked and happy in my arms, wanting nothing more than to stay there forever. Yuuri’s softness and warmth, his gentle scent and cute snoring, the way he sighs in his sleep and wears a contented little smile because I’m there with him…all of this makes our own little corner of heaven that neither of us knew that we wanted. Well, we knew we didn’t want to be alone anymore, but we didn’t know that we would find our heaven with each other. Nothing is ever going to be perfect, I suppose, and we certainly have our challenges, but I’m happy to the core and I want to share that happiness forever with him.

I’m still in the habit of waking early and going out for a long walk for fresh air and time to think. But starting today, I have a couple of walking companions who will be with me a couple of times a week while I’m in Saint Petersburg. I dress in warm clothing and go outside the house to find Stefan and Filip waiting for me. A short distance away, two bodyguards sit in a parked car. One climbs out to follow at a distance, while one remains to watch the house while Yuuri sleeps.

“Good morning, Stefan, Filip,” I greet the two cheerfully.

“Good morning, Victor,” they say together.

We walk down the street, heading for a park that’s near Yuuri’s and my home. There is a meandering trail and a stream that runs alongside it, when the weather isn’t freezing. This morning, the water is frozen and the air is icy, but to natives of Russia like the three of us, it’s a pretty normal situation.

“How did you sleep last night?” Stefan asks, “You seemed much more relaxed after we talked.”

“I had an easier time falling asleep,” I answer, “especially after Yuuri and I soaked in the hot tub. But I woke up a few times from nightmares about someone looking into the house. I know it’s irrational with the security that Yakov hired to protect all of us.”

“Is it?” Stefan asks calmly, “It seems pretty reasonable, given why you have those guards around you.”

“So you don’t think I’m overreacting?”

He tilts his head a little and looks at me for a moment before answering with a question.

“Do you think it’s overreacting?”

I’m quiet and thinking as the three of us pass over a little footbridge.

“I told Yakov, but I haven’t yet told Yuuri that Modya sent a message yesterday, making it clear that he knows I’m Yakov’s son, not his, and that he plans to take back my mother.”

“But she’s well protected too, right?” Filip asks.

“She is,” I confirm, “She is living with Yakov, and they have bodyguards too. But he made a point of saying that security isn’t going to help us. And the man is a bastard who used to beat me when I was a child. I wouldn’t put it past him to get violent if he doesn’t get what he wants. He wants my mother to go back to him, even if he has to force her.”

“And Russian law is not particularly good about protecting victims of domestic violence,” Stefan acknowledges.

“If it was, my mother would have had some real options when he was getting drunk and hurting us. Even now, with her leaving him, she is still technically his wife until she can get a divorce. I don’t think he’s going to make it easy for her. And I have to admit that with him threatening both my mother and me, I worry that Yuuri and Yakov could be put in harm’s way too.”

“That seems like a logical fear.”

“So, what do I do about it?” I wonder aloud, “We have security to protect us. We know to be careful and watch out for each other.”

“But you still feel vulnerable.”

It’s a statement, not a question.

_I have to say that Stefan is really good at understanding not just the situation, but how I think. How does he do this?_

“I do. Maybe it’s because no matter how many precautions we take, there are times when we let our guard down. If nothing happens for awhile, we may get just careless enough to leave him an opening. There are also times when it’s hard to protect ourselves, times when we will be traveling and in competition. Those situations provide opportunities. So, I suppose there’s nothing more I can do than to accept the situation and be careful. I know that in my mind, but..."

“But it creates stress,” Stefan reasons, “And that fuels dependence.”

“I don’t want to drink,” I say firmly, “I don’t want to rely too much on the sedatives or other medications. I want to be mentally strong enough that I can accept the situation without being dependent on anything.”

“But you realize that stress causes pressure to build up. That pressure needs a release. We just need to think of releases that are more positive.”

“Well,” I say, smirking, “short of moving into the ice rink itself and living there or never letting Yuuri out of bed, I’m not sure I can think of one.”

Filip snickers and Stefan’s smile warms.

“So,” Stefan says in an amused tone, “skating and sex are two outlets. You like to dance, right?”

“I do, but clubs always serve alcohol and when I go to a club, I still feel an ache inside like I want it.”

“You and Yuuri can certainly dance in your home,” Stefan suggests, “So that’s three outlets.”

“You like to cook, right?” Filip reminds me, “And you’re good at it. The pirozhkis you and Yuuri sent home with Stefan were amazing.”

“I’m glad you liked them. I do enjoy cooking and it is relaxing.”

“So,” Stefan concludes, “you have some outlets, and you have Yuuri to share them with.”

“Yes,” I agree, “I do have those things. That’s helpful.”

“And you can talk to me anytime you need to. I took a sabbatical to be here for you while you finish the skating season.”

Filip looks at his watch, then touches Stefan on the arm.

“Hey, I’ve got to run. Got to get to work.”

He gives Stefan a peck on the cheek and waves to me.

“Bye, Victor.”

“See you later, Filip,” I call back, watching him leave.

Stefan and I reach a fountain in the center of the park and we sit down on the stone bench that runs around it. The sound of the splashing water that is only not frozen because of the constant motion, soothes me a little. We’re quiet for awhile. Stefan likes to give me plenty of time to think when we’re together. After several minutes, he asks a question.

“So, the next competition is in…?”

“About two weeks,” I answer, “I’ll be competing at the European Championships, here in Russia while Yuuri is competing at the Four Continents.”

“Are you worried about him being away from you?”

“Hmm, I think I’m more worried about him being near me. Modya is a threat to Yuuri, but I suspect it’s more dangerous when Yuuri is close to me, because that is where Modya is likely to be. Still, Yuuri’s bodyguard will go with him. I’m confident he will be fine.”

“I’m sure you’re right.”

We sit quietly for a few minutes, listening to the rushing water of the fountain and watching as an old man walks his dog along the nearby trail. The chill around me seems to seep a little inside my clothes as a question occurs to me.

_I’ve been thinking about what Stefan said before…about me going into the inpatient therapy. Every time I think about it, my heart pounds and I feel afraid to even consider it. But, what if that is what I really need to end my addiction to alcohol?_

“Are you all right, Victor?” Stefan asks, “That’s a conflicted expression you’re wearing. Do you want to talk about it?”

I look at his friendly smile and I feel like I really want to.

_I trust Stefan. He has only ever tried to help me, and he is true to his word about everything. He doesn’t ask for more than I can give, and he surprises me with what he says. While I spend a lot of time hating myself for my shortcomings, he welcomes them. He understands them and he tries to help me accept them. And maybe that’s why I’ve been failing._

_Because while I hate the weakness that makes me give in to drinking, he accepts it as a part of me, and he asks me to forgive myself for being human. Somehow, accepting and loving myself is important to fixing myself._

_I just wish I understood how._

I’ve left a long silence, but Stefan waits patiently while I gather my thoughts and my nerve for what I want to say next.

“I’ve been thinking,” I say finally, looking down at my hands that are resting on either leg.

The fingers dig in a little as I prepare to go on. I’ve seen Yuuri do this when he’s nervous, so Stefan has to be aware that this is causing me some anxiety.

“About what you said before.”

He looks at me expectantly.

“I have a confession to make,” I tell him, pausing to let out a slow breath, “I have been considering what you said to me about my choices for therapy after the current skating season.”

“Okay,” he says encouragingly, “And what are your thoughts so far?”

“Honestly?” I ask, giving him an oddly shy smile for me.

But that is how I feel sometimes, because Stefan gets into places in my head that I don’t often share with anyone, but maybe Maccachin, who can’t tell a soul and Yuuri, who wouldn’t.

“I’m terrified to even consider inpatient therapy.”

“I know.”

_Again, he surprises me._

_How does he know? Am I just making it obvious? Has he felt like this before?_

Before I can ask him, he answers.

“You were an abused child, trapped in an unsafe household, then you were inducted into the world of figure skating and raised in a closed environment.”

“I did choose to be there.”

“Did you really?”

That sets me back a little.

_I’ve loved to skate since my mother first took me out to skate on that pond near our house. So, I can’t say that I didn’t want to become a figure skater. Still, the choice wasn’t made by me since I was eight years old when Yakov took me in. I don’t remember ever feeling like I didn’t want to be there. I just…didn’t question._

_I don’t regret becoming a figure skater…not at all._

“Perhaps you are right that I didn’t choose to become a skater, but it wouldn’t have happened if I hadn’t been so interested and talented.”

“That is true,” Stefan agrees, “But, the locus of control for that decision was out of your hands, really, because you were too young to make such a far reaching decision. You did choose to dedicate yourself to your training.”

“Yes.”

“And slowly, you began to assume a greater role in shaping your programs and living your life.”

“To some extent,” I explain, “I did begin producing my own programs, starting in my teens, but I still lived in the dormitory until I bought my current home five years ago.”

Stefan tilts his head slightly.

“You were twenty-three?” he asks.

“Yes.”

“And that year was the year that you began winning consecutive Grand Prix Finals and World Championships.”

“Yes.”

He considers that for awhile before continuing.

“Victor, what changed in that year?”

I look back at him blankly, and he smiles.

“Something happened in your life around that time to make you leave the dormitory. You’ve also told me before that this is when you stopped having girlfriends.”

“Yes, it is.”

“See, something had to have changed for you to do those things. What was it? Do you remember that, Victor?”

“I’m not sure,” I answer hesitantly, “I did have a very bad breakup with my last girlfriend. I was drinking too much, and she said that my performances were getting sloppy and uninspired.”

“That must have been hard to hear.”

“Yes, it made me angry. It’s strange. Deep down, I knew she was right. I was having trouble finding inspiration and I was drinking out of frustration, and to try to get away from everything. I thought of drinking, of losing my ability to think straight, as a way of opening my mind so that I could create more freely.”

“But, that’s not what was happening, was it?”

“No. I felt like I was floundering and slowly suffocating. And when she said that to me, I felt helpless and I got so angry. I said horrible things to her, beating her down with my words…but it was when the anger got so hot and dangerous, I felt my body tense, and I wanted to…”

I stop, sucking in a painful breath.

_I’ve never told anyone this…about that moment…about that moment when I almost hit her._

“What is it, Victor?” Stefan asks, touching my arm lightly, “What happened?”

It takes a few tries before I can go on.

“I felt my body tense, and the anger was like a volcano, ready to erupt. She made me feel small, useless, broken, and I couldn’t listen anymore. I wanted to stop her, and I…almost did so violently.”

Stefan looks at me in silence, waiting.

“I didn’t hit her, but it wasn’t any kind of mental reasoning that stopped me. That was the first time I had one of those flashbacks. I remembered for just a moment, being on the other end of an attack by someone who was a failure, and who couldn’t stand what he was. My girlfriend told me it was over, and she left, but I fell down on my hands and knees and I shook all over, thinking about what I’d seen. I didn’t know what it was, that it was part of my own past. But, I didn’t want to be that man who would hurt the people around him. After she left, I really thought about what I wanted, and what I wanted, more than anything else, was to prove to myself that she was wrong about me…to prove to myself that I could be the very best male figure skater in the world.”

“So, you used what you learned to motivate yourself to improve as a skater?” Stefan asks.

“Yes, that, and I also promised myself that I would never rely on someone else to tell me what I am or am not. After that relationship, I didn’t date anyone. I shut down emotionally and put everything into my skating. _I’m strongest on my own_. That’s what I told myself. I told myself that other people would only complicate things. It was good in that I did become the world’s best male figure skater. But…it was lonely being that…being up there by myself. And being at the top put a strain on me, because I wasn’t challenged. Slowly, over that five years, my inspiration and my love of skating began to die. I felt like I was dying inside, and I was so lonely that I poured everything into that one last program…my free skate. I was on the verge of quitting altogether. Then…Yuuri came into my life. First, when he was drunk at the banquet and he danced with me and then grabbed me and asked me to be his coach. Then again, when I saw him answer the cry for help that I put into my free skate. I saw that answer and I knew it was no accident that he had spilled his confession to me. Yuuri and I were meant to be together. I think we were made to be together…and now, I can’t imagine my life without him!”

I look up and see that Stefan is smiling helplessly. I give a shaky laugh and start to say more, but I get a notification of a text. I check my phone and start to smile at the picture that comes through, of Yuuri sleeping in the bed in our home.

Then, it hits me that if he was asleep, he wasn’t the one taking that picture.

For a moment, I’m paralyzed with sheer terror, then in the next moment, I drop my phone and start running.

_Yuuri!_

_Oh, please God, don’t let me be too late!_


	23. Moments of Love and Hate

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Victor and Yuuri are targets for Modya's wrath.

“Victor!” Stefan cries out, grabbing my phone from where it fell into the snow and running after me.

After a few steps, my bodyguard appears at my side.

“Mr. Nikiforov!” he shouts, “What is it?”

“Yuuri!” I pant as we run together with Stefan working to catch up, “Someone is in the house with him! They sent a picture of him in the bed!”

He pulls something out of his pocket and speaks quickly into it, then we continue to run back through the park, following the trail, because there is too much snow on the grass for us to run across it. We reach the edge of the park and run back along the street that leads to the corner of ours. As we round the corner, we spot two people at the bodyguards’ car. Yuuri is sitting on the hood of the car, dressed in just a yukata and his slippers, with the bodyguard’s heavy coat around his shoulders. Sava, his bodyguard, stands close beside him, looking him over carefully.

“Yuuri!” I call out, running to him and throwing my arms tightly around him, “Yuuri are you all right?”

“F-fine,” he answers through chattering teeth, “J-just a little c-cold and scared. “S-sava said that someone took a picture of me in bed?”

I take off my long scarf and wrap it around his neck and shoulders.

“Yes. It was sent to my phone. I was so scared for you, Yuuri! Are you sure you’re all right? There was no one in the room with you?”

“Eh…I was just sleeping,” he explains, frowning in confusion, “Then, I heard Sava run into the house, calling to me. He came into the bedroom and got me, and we ran out here. We haven’t been here for more than a couple of minutes.”

Sava exchanges glances with his partner.

“Now that you and Maret are here, I can go back inside and sweep the residence to make sure no one is hidden in there.”

“Sh-shouldn’t Maret go with you?” Yuuri asks anxiously, “What if…?”

“Don’t worry, Mr. Katsuki,” Sava says, laying a hand on my nervous lover’s arm for a moment, “We are trained for this. You just relax here and let Maret take care of you. I’ll be right back. I promise.”

“Okay,” Yuuri says uneasily.

“Let me look at you,” I say, leaning over him to carefully search his face, neck, arms and legs for any sign of someone doing anything to him.

“Do you see anything?” he whimpers, “Do you think someone did something to me while I was sleeping?”

“No…no, _solnyshko_ , I was just being overprotective,” I reassure him, once I’m sure there’s nothing to worry about, “I don’t know how someone took that picture. I don’t understand any of this!”

“Me either.”

“Do you feel all right, Yuuri?” Stefan asks.

“Ah, a little dizzy from the excitement,” Yuuri answers, “but I think I’m fine.”

“That’s good,” Stefan says, smiling sympathetically, “Take some slow breaths, okay? It’s all right now.”

“Ah…er…thanks,” Yuuri says, trying to make his body obey.

I move to stand in between Yuuri’s slightly parted thighs, using my body to continue to warm the front of his.

“Are you warmer now?” I ask, trying to speak calmly.

“Yeah, but you’ve gotta be cold without your scarf and with your coat open.”

“No, Yuuri’s body is warm. I’m not cold at all.”

“Okay,” he says, blushing, “but maybe we shouldn’t be doing this out here, where…”

“Shh,” I whisper in his ear, “Just let me hold you. I really thought he was going to hurt you!”

“He sent a picture to your phone?”

“Yes,” I answer, stepping back for a moment and retrieving the phone from Stefan.

I open the text and beneath the picture find that a message follows.

_This was a warning, Victor. If Mirra does not come home immediately, the next time will be for real._

“It’s worded carefully,” Maret observes, “so that it’s not perfectly clear what he’s threatening to do.”

“It’s clear enough to me,” I snap, getting angry, now that the danger to Yuuri has passed, “I’m not letting him get away with this!”

“Victor,” Yuuri says anxiously, “you can’t do anything. You don’t even know where he is. He could be anywhere!”

“He must be damned close if he was in our home!”

“He wasn’t inside,” Sava says, suddenly emerging from within the house and joining us at the car.

He holds out a hand, exposing three very small round devices made of black plastic.

“There were cameras in the master suite,” he explains, “I suspect that they were placed inside either during the vandalism or during the reconstruction. I found one near the window, one near the door and one near the mirror in the master bathroom.”

Yuuri’s face goes sheet white and he starts to shake all over.

“In the bathroom?” he manages softly, “But, we were…”

“Don’t worry about it,” I tell him.

“But Victor, what if he decides to…to…show…”

“He won’t,” I assure him, “That would give away that he was the one who did this.”

“Would it?” Yuuri asks in a fearful hiss, “Victor, he’s gotten away with vandalizing our home and now, taking pictures of me in bed and us in the hot tub together! I wouldn’t put it past him to make sure that we’re embarrassed publicly with the hot tub photos, and you _know_ what that would mean!”

“Yuuri, you have to try not to think about that,” I warn him, “There is nothing we can do…but…”

I have to stop because what comes into my head is really painful.

“But what?” he asks, leaning back slightly to look at me.

_It’s not safe for him here anymore. Not that it was really safe before. We were already having to be cautious to not show too much affection in public. Now, in addition to worrying about Modya harming Yuuri, we have to be worried about whether he might have recorded us making love in the hot tub. If something like that was posted online…_

“Victor?” Yuuri says, touching my face, “Why are you looking at me like that?”

_I have to just…tell him._

“Yuuri, it’s not safe for you to be here in Russia. You…need to go back to Japan. You should go now!”

“What?” he gasps, grabbing onto my arms, “Victor, what do you mean? I’m not leaving you! This guys is…!”

“He is my problem,” I say firmly, “not yours. He doesn’t have connections in Japan, but he is able to move around here and…”

“And what about you? You’re staying here, aren’t you? And Yakov and Mirra-san? I can’t just leave all of you! You’re…Victor, you are my _family_! I’m not going to run away, just because it’s scary. I’m staying with you!”

“Do you think I don’t want you to, Yuuri?” I plead, taking his hands in mine and rubbing them with my warmer fingers, “I do, but…do you know how it felt when I saw that picture of you? When I thought he was going to hurt you? He just said that next time, it would be real. If he hurt you, I could never forgive myself, so…I’m going to ask you to forgive me.”

“Victor, no!” Yuuri objects, his eyes leaking tears, “I can’t leave you!”

“You have to!” I insist, hugging him and burying my face in his shoulder, “You have to go back to Japan! Please, Yuuri. Take Sava with you to watch over you there. I’ll be okay, and Modya won’t be able to use you to manipulate me.”

“He’ll probably try to hurt you instead,” Yuuri reasons, “Victor, this isn’t the time for us to be separated. Right now? We need to be together. We should fight him together. You shouldn’t try to send me off to Japan while you’re in trouble. Whether you know it or not, you need me, right here!”

“Yuuri…”

“Victor,” Stefan interjects quietly, “I think that Yuuri is right.”

It’s hard to know how to react to him saying that. On the one hand, I trust Stefan. I know he has my best interests at heart. But, if Yuuri stays here and he gets hurt, especially because of me…

“ _Nyet_!” I hiss back at him, “Modya directly threatened him. He needs to leave here for his own safety!”

“I’m going to ask you to slow down and think,” he persists, looking into my eyes, “Modya set the cameras up beforehand.”

“Yes, but he…”

“He controlled the cameras remotely,” he adds, “He wasn’t in the room with Yuuri, but he wants to intimidate you. Think carefully about that. He wants you to feel intimidated so that you will separate yourself from the people you care about. You think you’re going to be protecting them, but the truth is, you are all stronger if you stay together.”

“Stefan, I can’t let him hurt Yuuri. It would kill me!”

“I know,” he says, giving me a sympathetic look, “But, do you think that Yuuri is one bit less devoted to your safety than you are devoted to his?”

“I am not the one that Modya threatened!” I shout.

“Yes, you are!” Yuuri shouts back, “He just used me to do it, and you’re falling for it, Victor! Don’t be stupid. Don’t think that sending me away will do any good.”

“It will give him one less target!”

“Well, I’m not going!” he snaps angrily, “I won’t leave!”

I want to keep arguing with him, but I’ve seen that look of determination before. I’m not going to get anywhere with him…and if he stays out here in the cold, he’s going get sick or something. I shake my head and bury my face in his shoulder again, shivering at the thought of the continued danger to all of us.

“You’re too stubborn,” I complain in a shaky voice.

“It’s your fault,” he says, giving me a tentative smile, “Remember, I learned it all from you.”

My breath catches and my eyes burn as I hold onto him.

“Maret, Sava,” I say more calmly, “Will you please take Yuuri and me to a Yakov’s? We need a place to stay while we have the whole house examined.”

I give Stefan a grateful look.

“It’s probably safest if we are all together,” I add, “Stefan, would you like a ride home?”

“Thank you. I would.”

Yuuri, Stefan and I climb into the back seat of the car and Sava drives us over, while Maret remains at the house, going over every inch. I call ahead and Yakov and my mother meet us at the door when we arrive. Mother puts her hands on Yuuri’s blushing cheeks and gives him a look of sympathy.

“Poor thing, out there in the cold in your pajamas!” she soothes him.

“Oh, it’s okay,” Yuuri assures her, “Victor gave me his scarf and Sava let me use his coat. I guess I’ll get some clothes when the house is cleared.”

“But we have practice,” I remind Yuuri.

“Practice?” he repeats, giving me a befuddled look, “How can I practice in my pajamas?”

“Oh, well, I leave stuff over here at Yakov’s all of the time. I’m pretty sure there are some clothes in the guest room dresser.”

“They should be there,” Yakov agrees, crossing his arms, “Yuuri, go and get dressed. I want to talk to Vitya.”

Yuuri looks like he wants to argue, but Mom wraps an arm around him and coaxes him away. Yakov moves closer.

“So, what happened at your house?” he asks me, “You said there was a threat? To Mirra?”

“Well, he didn’t threaten her directly, but he did this.”

I show him the picture and message that were sent to my phone.

“It’s strange,” I say, shaking my head, “He’s demanding that mother return to him, but he’s not threatening to hurt her. He’s threatening to hurt Yuuri. This picture he sent. I thought he was in that room and ready to kill Yuuri. That man is insane!”

“He has a dangerous grudge,” Yakov concludes, “But we can manage, as long as we are careful.”

He glances in the direction that Yuuri went.

“You know, Vitya, Yuuri would be safer in Japan. Modya will stay focused on us here.”

“I know,” I sigh, frowning, “I tried to convince him, but Yuuri is stubborn. He wouldn’t go.”

“Hmph! He’s just like you…stubborn, defiant…and very loyal. I didn’t understand when you left Russia to go and coach him, but…there is no denying he is good for you.”

“He is,” I agree, smiling affectionately at just the thought of my loving, headstrong fiancé.

Yuuri returns to the room a few minutes later with mother at his side. He’s found some clothes to wear. Mother whips up a quick breakfast that we share before we leave to go to the ice center. Although Mother usually stays at Yakov’s, she decides to come along too. Their bodyguards go along with us, while Sava returns to Yuuri’s and my house to assist Maret in the search.

Yakov works with Yurio on one end of the rink, while I coach Yuuri on the other end, with Mother watching. Her eyes sparkle as they follow Yuuri while he begins his Eros program, and instead of giving me his sexy eyes, he blows her a little kiss.

“Yuuri,” I scold him playfully, “are you flirting with my mother?”

He just laughs and continues his Eros program.

“He’s such a joy to watch,” Mother sighs as she watches him dance, “Vitya, he’s a beautiful skater. You were right to have confidence in him.”

“I never doubted him,” I answer, smiling as Yuuri begins his jumps, “although he still is prone to having attacks of nerves sometimes. But he’s learned some ways to relax himself so that it doesn’t hurt his performance so much. He has come a long way.”

“He has a wonderful coach.”

“I’m a terrible coach,” I laugh, “But, I’m a good lover, so he puts up with me.”

“The choreography is stunning,” she says appreciatively, “You always did have a gift for that.”

Yuuri finishes up his Eros program, then his free skate, after which I pick out several things for him to work on. I leave him practicing while I warm up for my own session with Yakov. Mother moves down to watch me as I work my way through my own short program, then my free skate.

Usually it’s like pulling teeth to get Yakov to say anything nice at all about my practice sessions. He is really unforgiving about every detail. But maybe it’s because Mother is there, and she’s smiling as she watches me. Yakov can’t take his eyes off of her, and he’s actually pretty nice to me. By the time I finish and skate back to Yuuri for our usual ice dance, they are wearing skates too, and they join us on the ice for the dancing.

For just a little while, we get to be a family, to share our love of the ice and dancing, to hold each other close. We smile so happily as we glide around the rink. I’m kind of sad when it ends and we take off our skates. My phone rings as Yuuri and I sit on the bench together.

“Hello?”

“Victor, it’s Maret,” says the voice on the other end.

“How is the search going?” I ask.

“We’ve searched the whole house and removed a number of surveillance devices. They’re pretty basic.”

“Well, he’s not very smart,” I comment, “but he’s determined.”

“In any case, the house is safe now, and Sava and I are installing cameras around the property. You should be able to come back to the house tonight.”

“That’s good news. Thank you both for taking care of that for us. Yuuri and I appreciate your protection.”

“You’re welcome, sir.”

I end the call and Yuuri and I finish changing our shoes.

“Was that Maret or Sava?” he asks.

“It was Maret,” I tell him, “They’ve finished clearing the house and making sure it’s safe. Now, they are installing some cameras around the house so that they can watch more closely.”

“That’s a relief,” Yuuri sighs, leaning against me and smiling as I wrap my arms around him.

“I still say that you should have gone to Japan. You would be safer.”

“Yeah, maybe,” Yuuri says, lacing his fingers together with mine, “But this way is better. This way, we can all look out for each other.”

“Just be careful,” I chide him, “Don’t make me sorry that I didn’t try harder to make you go.”

My phone buzzes with another message and I feel a little quiver inside as I pick it up and read.

_I warned you, Victor._

_When the time is right, you are going to pay for ruining my life._

“Victor!” Yuuri gasps softly, looking over my shoulder at the message.

“It’s him again,” I warn my spooked fiancé, “Yuuri, listen to me. You have to stay close to me and be very, very careful now.”

“We’ll stay close to each other,” he promises, “He’s not going to hurt you or me. We won’t let him.”

_I wish I could feel as brave as he sounds, but I am so worried…not so much for myself as for my mother and Yuuri._

_Please, God, watch over all of us._

_Now that we’re together, please don’t let him break us apart._


	24. Dribbles, Soft Strokes and Eros

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Victor and Yuuri prepare to part for the European Championships and Four Continents competitions.

The next couple of weeks move quickly, and with major competitions coming at us, Yuuri and I turn our focus to those. Fortunately for us, even though Modya continues to issue intermittent threats, our security team remains vigilant and they appear to stymy any attempt he might be making to hurt any of us. My mother stays close to Yakov, and they have two bodyguards with them at all times, especially as the days count down to the competitions and she completes the filing for her divorce from Modya.

“You know this is going to make things much more dangerous even than they have been,” Yakov warns us as we finish practice the day before Yuuri’s departure for the Four Continents competition, “Yuuri, you will be a little safer, being out of the country.”

“But don’t let your guard down anyway,” I remind him, “Keep close to Sava and be really careful at any public interviews or events you go to.”

“I’ll be careful,” Yuuri promises, “You be careful too, Victor. You’re the one he’s been directly threatening.”

“Only because he doesn’t have Mom’s cell number or Yakov’s,” I conclude.

“You ought to change your number, don’t you think, Vitya?” Yakov suggests.

“That would take away what little chance we have of luring him into the open,” I argue, “The only thing worse than seeing a circling shark, is seeing him drop beneath the surface so you can’t see him coming.”

“I suppose that’s true,” Yakov sighs discontentedly.

He looks around the rink and nods.

“Well, I guess we’re done here.”

He looks at Yuuri and surprises him with a warm little smile.

“Best of luck to you in your competition.”

Yuuri is taken aback a little by the show of friendliness and it makes him blush and his eyes widen. He hugs my mom, then puts his arms around Yakov, who hesitates for a moment, then hugs him back.

“Be careful,” he warns Yuuri.

“ _Spasibo_ ,” Yuuri says back, “You be careful too. And…take good care of Vitya while I’m gone. He gets lonely and it makes him sulky.”

“I’m aware of that,” Yakov grumbles, rolling his eyes, “He’ll be impossible until you get back.”

Yuuri and I head home from the ice center, and we sink into the hot tub for a last bubbling soak before his departure. I can tell pretty quickly that he’s getting anxious about leaving and about the competition. He seems distracted and a little standoffish when I start to grope him under the water.

“What’s wrong?” I ask, tickling his lips with mine, “Yuuri, aren’t you going to give me a little attention before you leave me?”

“Sorry,” he apologizes, putting his arms around me and letting me kiss him a few times, “I’m just a little nervous.”

“About the Four Continents?” I ask, sitting back slightly, “Are you worried about competing against JJ?”

“Well, kinda…I don’t think he’s going to mess up there, like he did in the short program at the Grand Prix Finals. It’s going to be a challenge, trying to beat him when he’s skating well. I mean, he beat Yurio twice in the Grand Prix Series.”

“And you beat Yurio numerous times over the past year.”

“In individual events,” Yuuri points out, “but he beat me on overall scores in both the Rostelecom Cup and the Grand Prix Finals.”

“Don’t worry about that,” I say reassuringly, “I know you can beat JJ. Even in the free skate when he landed the quad loop, he didn’t come close to your world record free skate score. You beat him solidly. And you’ve fully mastered both the quad flip and the quad lutz now. You have four quads in your free skate, and the most difficult ones are in the second half to earn you higher scores. Just skate your best and I know you will beat him.”

Yuuri’s grateful smile is so beautiful, I can’t help kissing it. I start getting friendly with him again and this time he seems more receptive. He sighs and sinks into a long, passionate open mouthed kiss and lets me play with his soft genitals under the water until he hardens and gets that very hungry look in his eyes.

“Oh,” I purr, “I _like_ that look, Yuuri.”

I climb onto his lap and grind against him as we kiss some more. I’m verrrrry encouraged when I feel a little bite on my neck and his hips move to press harder into mine. We keep kissing and dry fucking for a few minutes before Yuuri stops all of a sudden, sniffing the air curiously.

“Victor,” he says, taking my face in his hands so I’ll stop kissing him and listen, “what’s that smell?”

I give him a coy smile.

“A smell?” I ask, teasing his cock with mine, “I don’t smell anything but Yuuri’s sexy scent.”

“Liar!” he laughs, splashing water at me, “What is that?”

“Hmmm, a little surprise for you that Maret and Sava are preparing, maybe?” I giggle, “You are hungry after all of that skating, _da_?”

“Oh my god, yes!” he groans, “It smells really, really good, Victor. Can we go and eat now?”

“Patience, my cute _katsudon_ ,” I tell him, nipping at his lips, “I’m supposed to keep you busy until we hear a tap on the door, okay?”

“Keep me busy?” Yuuri snickers, “How will you do that?”

“You leave that to me.”

I lift my hips and start to slide down onto his hardness.

“Victor!” he objects, “I didn’t even…!”

“Shh, I’ll go slow,” I promise, moving my hips in an unhurried shimmy as I join with him.

The extra slow entry riles him, making him groan and pant, holding onto my hips and trying to resist pushing upward with his own.

“Ah…ah, Victor!” he pants, his chest heaving.

When we’re fully joined, I start grinding against him again and we resume our deep kissing. I love feeling him moan into my mouth and the way he grabs my ass and squeezes so hard. All of the movement makes good friction for my penis that’s caught between our writhing bodies and we’re quickly approaching orgasm…when a tapping on the door pretty much brings everything to a screeching halt.

“N-no!” I whimper, “Just another few seconds!”

Yuuri’s hips buck suddenly upward, and the head of his thrusting cock hits that spot that makes me see stars. I’m not quite sure what comes out of my mouth as I climax, but my body goes taut and my back arches. My head starts to turn away, but Yuuri’s hands wrap around it, making me look at him as my flushed penis twitches and spasms.

“What are you…?”

“I like seeing Victor’s orgasm face,” Yuuri whispers, stroking my cheek.

“Yuuri!”

_He’s about the only person capable of making me blush, mostly because even now, it feels somehow unexpected when his Eros slips out and he says things like that._

“You didn’t even climax, did you?” I complain, collapsing onto his shoulder as he rubs my water slicked back and round, soft bottom.

“I have more stamina,” he says unrepentantly, “It’s fine. We don’t both have to.”

“Stamina, huh?” I huff, climbing off his lap and out of the water as he follows, “That sounds like a challenge. Maybe we should see just how much stamina you have.”

“Well, you already got me kind of riled,” he muses.

_Now he’s getting me a little angry, teasing me like that!_

_Little does he know…_

“Victor?”

“Come on,” I coax him, picking up a towel and running it over my wet body, “It’s time to go out and see the surprise.”

We dry off quickly, then step out into the bedroom. As we do, Yuuri stops in his tracks, sniffing the air and staring at the long, thin table that’s been set along one side of the bed. All along its length are small plates filled with little portions of meat, vegetables and cheese, just begging to be dipped into the array of rich sauces that accompany them.

“Fondue?” he gasps happily, “Oh, that looks AMAZING, Victor!”

He starts towards it, but I curl an arm around his waist, holding him back.

“And who said that you can have that?” I tease him, “That’s _mine_. It’s on my side of the bed, so if you want some, you’ll have to let me feed it to you.”

“But it smells so good and I’m starving!” he complains.

“Then, do what you’re told, and I’ll feed you some. Just, don’t bite the hand that feeds you.”

I pause and snicker.

“Or the mouth or anything else that feeds you either!”

“Victor!”

I back him up to the bed and push him down, then I climb on top of him and grab a scarf I left by the bed to tie his hands above his head.

“Here now,” I say, stabbing a bit of meat with a toothpick and dunking it in one of the sauces, “I’ll give you a little right away, just to be nice.”

I set the dripping bit between my lips and let it dribble onto Yuuri’s throat and face as I move in to deliver it with a gentle kiss.

“Mmmmmmm!” Yuuri moans.

He starts to laugh as I lick up the dribbles that fell onto his skin, sweeping my tongue first along the front of his neck, then along his jaw and over his cheek. When that is done, I begin dipping more of the bits and dribbling lines of sauce haphazardly all over his chest, drenching his pink nipples, then working my way downward to his belly. I dribble a lot of sauce into his navel, making Yuuri giggle.

“You still look hungry,” I note, moving back to bring another dripping bit to his snapping mouth.

“Oh! Mmmmmm! It’s good, Victor! It’s so good!” he gasps, snapping up the bits and licking his lips as I work my way down his body.

I trace the lines of sauce I made with an even saucier tongue, lapping up the thick liquid, nibbling at his sweet flesh and pausing to suckle each erect nipple until he groans and his hips rise off the bed.

“Oh my,” I laugh, narrowing my eyes as I glare down at his very thick cock, “I think I missed _that_!”

“Oh…n-nah!” he gasps as I drip thick, warm, gooey cheese sauce onto his already leaking staff, “V-victor!”

“I haven’t licked you there, yet,” I complain, “Be good, or I’ll stop and just sit here eating in front of you.”

“No! I’ll be g-good!” he pants excitedly.

“Okay,” I hiss seductively, “here I come, Yuuri!”

Leaning over him again, I pause to sprinkle his sauce dribbled torso with some of the bits of meat and cheese. Then, I descend his body, gobbling up the bits, nipping and nibbling at the tender flesh of his belly and dipping into his sauce-filled navel, sucking hungrily.

“Ah! It tickles, Victor!”

“Heh, you have a ticklish belly, cute _katsudon_?” I tease him, “Too bad. I can’t stop. I have to lick up all of it. I’m afraid you’ll just have to suffer!”

I dive back onto him, holding his hips as he writhes under the warm, devouring strokes of my tongue. Crawling lower, I sprinkle more of the bits of food into the cheese sauce that covers his throbbing cock, then, watching his face, I start to feed again.

“You said you like to look at my orgasm face,” I hiss playfully, “Now, Yuuri will show me his rapturous one!”

“Victor!” he groans, quivering as I work methodically at the mess I’ve made, first snapping up the little bits, then slowly lingering along the shaft of his leaking erection, sinking down lower to suckle each soft testicle, then stroking the shaft again before taking his whole length in my mouth and sucking hard, bringing his hips off the bed and making him moan helplessly as my attentions overwhelm him and he comes into my mouth. My eyes close and I swallow repeatedly, then I lick him there more gently, watching him pant and writhe in ecstasy. I crawl lazily back up his sticky body and kiss his smiling lips, then I untie his wrists and settle into his arms.

“I think we might need to bathe and change the sheets after this,” I giggle, resting my head on his shoulder and daydreaming as Yuuri rests and nibbles at the food by the bed.

“I guess it can wait awhile,” he sighs.

“Oh?”

Usually, Yuuri wouldn’t like relaxing in a sticky mess like the one we’re in. I suppose he’s just that contented now.

“Well,” he goes on, “now that Victor has eaten, it’s my turn, _ne_?”

I barely have time to give a little snicker in response, then he turns and grabs my wrists, and he clamps down on my grinning mouth as he secures my hands above my head. Eros blossoms on his face and he pauses to run his fingers through his hair and licks his lips sensuously.

“Are you ready to have _your_ stamina tested, Vitya?” he purrs.

We both know I don’t have any stamina at all, so as he treats me to the same oral seduction I gave him, he keeps a staying hand wrapped firmly around the base of my cock, warding off completion. In scant moments, he has me completely at his mercy, and I can feel he’s leaving some love bites as he works his way over my heaving chest and vulnerable belly. It tickles so much, but the feeling of his soft tongue stroking my skin is so heavenly, I bite my own tongue and bear every sweet moment of his suckling my nipples until they ache, sliding his teeth along hard enough to leave little pink trails, plunging into my navel, then holding me tightly so I can’t climax while he licks and sucks my throbbing penis until I’m begging him shamelessly for release. When he finally does let go, I surrender instantly with a low, erotic growl. He devours every last drop I expel, then runs his tongue more lazily over my soft nether parts while I lie still, listening to the rushing and ringing that fills my ears. We rest together for awhile before climbing out of bed and changing the bedding.

We head into the shower first to clean of any clinging bits of food and sauces, then we sink down into the hot tub to cuddle. It feels so good I want to forget that in just a few hours Yuuri will be leaving for the Four Continents competition. I hate to think of him being so far away, but he should be safer once he’s left Russia. I should be a little worried for myself, but our guards being nearby makes me feel safe for the moment. I will probably feel more vulnerable when we leave for the European Championships and we’re in more public places, where things can happen very quickly.

“Victor?”

“Hmm?”

“Can you tell me something?”

“Of course, Yuuri. What do you want to know?”

His sleepy brown eyes fix on mine.

“What gave you the inspiration for Eros?”

I can’t help smiling at that. It’s a story I haven’t told Yuuri. It gives me a lot of pleasure that he’s finally asked me about that.

“Eros?” I repeat.

“Mmhmm. It’s such a sexy and seductive program, but…erm, you weren’t seeing anyone when you thought of it, right? So, where did the idea come from?”

“Ah, that’s an interesting story,” I chuckle, “You see, as I was finishing up the Grand Prix Series last year, I was struggling with what I was going to do the following year.”

“I know. You’ve told me.”

“That’s right. I couldn’t seem to find any inspiration…until one night, unexpectedly, the night of the Grand Prix Finals banquet, I was stricken with inspiration when a very cute boy at the banquet got wasted on champagne and started to dance.”

“Victor! That’s not true, is it?”

“It’s true. Every word,” I assure him in perfect seriousness, “I watched this cute, drunk boy as he dragged Yurio into a dance, then Chris into a pole dance. Then, the cute boy grabbed me and made me dance with him, and he ended our dance by dipping me and smiling at me so seductively, I fell hard for him. But…even though he hugged me and dry humped me in front of everyone, asking me to go home to Hasetsu with him and to be his coach, I thought he wasn’t serious…that he was only saying this because he was drunk off his ass. But, just to be sure, I waited until the next morning and I looked for him to talk to him. But, I learned, to my great sadness, that he had already left the hotel, so I didn’t get the chance to talk to him again. I heard after that, he was quitting figure skating and I was pretty sad about that. But I didn’t think there was anything I could do. After all, I was no kind of coach for someone else…and this boy only even talked to me because he was very, very drunk. Still, he haunted me a lot, and I wanted to remember how he seduced me with his dancing, so I was inspired to produce Eros…to remember that cute boy.”

Yuuri looks at me with rounded eyes.

“That’s not _really_ true, is it? You made Eros because of that?”

“Mmhmm, but that’s not the end of the story, you see, because some months after that, I saw that boy doing something crazy on the Internet. I saw him skating my free skate, and doing it perfectly, and I was enchanted by him all over again. And I knew that if he could perform my free skate like that, then I had to go and convince him to keep skating. More than anything, I wanted to compete with that cute boy again. So, I dropped everything and went to him, only to find, not my seductive Eros, but a sweet, flustered Agape, who was nothing like the boy who seduced me. I was confused at first, but I got to work right away, and I created the Agape program and tried to decide which one I should use. I didn’t know that I wasn’t going to use either one, but that since my cute Eros seemed to have lost his memory of himself. I would give him that program to help him remember.”

“Is that really why you assigned me Eros?”

“W-well, kind of,” I giggle, “You see, I didn’t know that you had completely forgotten dancing with me at the banquet, but you were acting so different and it frustrated and confused me, so I gave you Eros to make you dance that way for me again.”

“I don’t know if I believe you,” he laughs.

“I’m being serious with you,” I insist, “It was the only way to get you to seduce me again.”

He doesn’t look completely convinced, but he rests his chin on the top of my head and sighs.

“Well, whether it was that or something else, I’m just glad that you came to Hasetsu. I want to compete with you again.”

“We’ll meet as competitors again at worlds.”

“Right. I’m looking forward to that, Victor.”

“Me too.”

We finish up our bath and dry off, then we fall into bed and don’t move again until morning. We’re up early, and I travel to the airport to see him off. When I get back, the house feels so empty without him. I don’t even have Maccachin with me, because he’s been staying with Yakov and my mother since I don’t like leaving him alone at my house while I’m gone anymore.

I get sulky then and lie around, feeling lonely until a notification sounds on my phone.

_It’s too soon to hear from Yuuri. It’s probably Yakov telling me to get my ass down there to practice. Ugh…_

I open the message and feel a dark chill inside.

_Only days now, son._

_You will see the light._


	25. Phantom

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Modya makes a daring move during the European Championships.

After the chilling text I got, Yakov insisted we try going to the police, which we haven’t done, because of the fact that the texts only hint at threats and they are sent from untraceable phones. It goes about as well as we expect, meaning the police just tell us that they can’t do anything because there is no real evidence that this is Modya…although, who else would call me ‘son?’ I have a suspicion the police are just not motivated to help, because it’s a domestic violence case, but none of us have any bruises or injuries to prove anything. It’s like running into the same wall repeatedly…a complete waste of time. We go back to Yakov’s place, where Maccachin and I remain with my parents until it’s time to leave for the European Championships.

While it is worrisome that we can’t do anything about Modya’s threats, I do get to spend time with my mother. It’s funny too, because we both enjoy shopping, going out to different restaurants together and dancing. I think she loves Yuuri as much as I do, although she loves him with motherly love. Like me, she can’t stop talking about him, and we make sure not to miss the interview he gives just before the Four Continents.

“He looked very composed,” she comments, “Sometimes when you’re not with him, he can be nervous, but he seemed comfortable this time.”

“I thought so too,” I agree, sitting down on the floor next to Maccachin, and beside the recliner she’s in, “I hope he’s as composed during the competition. He tends to do well in the short program, but sometimes he gets anxious before the free skate. I wish I could be with him. This makes two competitions he was in that I couldn’t attend.”

“You’ve got your own competition to think about,” she says, smiling, “I’m glad I’ll be able to go with you this time.”

“I’m glad you’ll be there.”

There’s barely time for thinking as the hours count down and we get ready to leave Saint Petersburg. I’m happy that Mother and Maccachin will be coming along, although I am still worried about what Modya could be planning. Stefan, too, is coming along with us. Our trip is comfortable and uneventful, but even with Stefan’s assistance, I’m on edge and I feel like I’m just waiting for something inevitable and horrifying to happen. I don’t want to be paranoid, but when we attend the public practice, it’s hard to concentrate, because I constantly feel like he must be there and watching from somewhere. Stefan and I have more than a couple of meditation sessions before we attend the short program competition. Thankfully, as we approach time for my group to compete, I start to go into a calmer state that I usually take on before going on the ice. Yakov and Stefan are with me at rinkside as we await my turn and both are gently encouraging.

“Try to put everything out of your mind but this,” Yakov says, looking into my eyes, “You are the best talent on the ice here. Your programs looked perfect in practice. You are ready.”

“You are going to do well,” Stefan adds, “just keep your focus on why you are here. You told me that you love the ice, the music, the motion. Try to enjoy that.”

“I will,” I promise as I step onto the ice, “Thank you both.”

I head out to center ice, aware of the fact that Yurio is leading with a score in the hundreds, and both Georgi and Andrei have scored personal bests. It doesn’t make me worried. I don’t usually worry about the other skaters’ scores…although admittedly, I am glad that Yurio’s score is not very close to his world record score. Without Yuuri in the competition, it’s not as easy for him to feel motivated. I’d like to say I put as much pressure on him to try harder, but he still doesn’t see me as the level of threat to winning as he sees Yuuri.

 _I feel a little insulted_.

I take my position on the ice, breathing slowly and feeling relaxed. There is a bigger crowd here than there was at the Russian Nationals, so the cheering is loud. The music begins, and my mind goes into the state it always does when I compete. I let the music flow through my ears, into my body and let it move me. Everything disappears but the connection between the music, my body and the ice I dance on. The theme of my short program is “Innocent Lies,” so my movements are carefully scripted to radiate that feeling and my expression is composed, but bearing hints of sadness and regret. In a few places, I close my eyes briefly, but I never lose track of my exact position on the ice. After so many years of skating, I could almost skate my programs with eyes closed. That is how much I feel at home here.

The performance goes well in the first half, and I hear sounds of appreciation at my execution of the step sequence. I can barely keep from smiling at how different it feels since I studied Yuuri’s approach to step sequences and was able to improve mine. I almost get a feeling like he’s with me as I perform it, then move into a high difficulty spin combination. That’s another place that I’ve improved because of the time I’ve spent with Yuuri.

I exit the spins and gather speed, heading across the ice and positioning my body for the first jump. Everything is going beautifully, but as I begin the jump, my eyes are distracted by a person standing near the end of the rink where I am heading.

Time seems to slow down for me as it registers in my mind that I am looking at Modya Nikiforov.

_Only days now, son._

_You will see the light._

There is nothing I can do as intense fear grips my body while I’m in the air and my timing is thrown off. I over rotate, but I manage to land without touching the ice with my hand. I can’t look to see if I really saw him there, because I’ve already screwed up on a major element in my program and any other mistakes will pretty much take me out of the running for a place on the podium. I take a calming breath and push it out of my mind, managing the rest of the program without any further mishaps, but I’m haunted as the music ends and I steal a glance at that place where I thought I saw him.

_Did I imagine it?_

_It must have been my imagination, and that being the case, I need to get my mind back under control if I want to win._

Yakov waits for me in the kiss and cry, and he doesn’t hold back on his thoughts about my performance.

“What the hell kind of jump was that? Where was your head? Were you daydreaming about that boyfriend of yours? You’ve got to stop pining over him.”

“I wasn’t pining!” I complain.

“Then, what was wrong with you? You were fine until that jump, then in a moment you went to hell. What happened?”

“Eh…?”

_I can’t tell him the truth. He and Stefan will probably think I’m nuts. No, I need to keep quiet about this, and just…not think about Modya. Probably all that happened was that I was worried about that because of the threats. I thought I was under control, but it was bugging me more than I realized._

_I can’t get paranoid. If I do that, I’m not going to be able to skate properly. Yes, I just need to not let myself be distracted with those worries._

I hear Yakov growl and see the scores for my short program. I have third place by the skin of my teeth behind Yurio and Andrei, with Georgi mere hundredths of a point behind me.

Ugh…well, it’s not like I’ve never made mistakes and had to come from a third or fourth to take the gold. I know how to maximize my points in the free skate. It will be fine. Still, it’s awhile before Yakov is done yelling at me and we leave the competition. I avoid the other skaters who came with us and go back to my room. Stefan comes up with me, and we have dinner in my room.

“Are you all right, Victor?” he asks.

_Of course he’s going to notice. I don’t know what to say to him. Should I tell him what I thought I saw? Maybe he can calm my fears about it. I’m sure this isn’t abnormal for someone who is facing a dangerous situation, right?_

_I trust him._

“Are you upset about that jump?” he goes on.

“Not really,” I tell him, “There is a reason why I faltered and messed it up.”

“Oh?”

“I didn’t feel comfortable telling Yakov, but I think I should tell you. As I was entering the jump, I thought that I saw Modya, standing near the end of the rink, watching me.”

Stefan frowns worriedly.

“You saw him there? Why didn’t you say anything? If he was there…”

“That’s the thing,” I say hesitantly, “I’m not sure if he was really there…or if maybe, I was just unnerved by his threats and I just imagined him there.”

I feel terrible confessing something like that, and I’m sure he’s going to tell me I’m going crazy or something, but Stefan always tries to understand me. He’s encouraging, and we spend more time doing relaxation exercises before I go to sleep. But neither that nor a phone call from Yuuri seem to take away the unease that’s hanging over me. I sleep very poorly and I don’t eat well the next day, but he works with me constantly, making me happy and relieved he’s there. By the day of the free skate, I feel much more relaxed, and pretty much convinced that it was just nerves before.

Having screwed up my short program, I’m in third place entering the free skate. I’ve avoided watching the news stories about the competition and what I’m sure were a lot of speculations on whether or not I’ll be taking a spot in the world championships. I won’t let myself be intimidated by speculation. My body is in good shape and I have worked hard on my programs. I feel ready to prove that. When it’s my turn, I smile and move out onto the ice, determined to win.

My opening moves go perfectly, and I sink into the music, letting it radiate inside me, then feeling it guide my movements around the ice. I’m perfectly focused as I nail an early spin combination and earn sounds of delight from the crowd.

“ _That was a perfect spin move and I’m sure that it will go over well with the judges,”_ The commentator says.

 _“This is just the kind of performance that we’ve come to expect from Nikiforov, and despite the hiccup in his short program, I can see him pulling off a win tonight, if he keeps up this quality of skating,”_ his companion adds.

My first jumps go well also, and my step sequence earns excited cheers. I’m well on track to overtake the two skaters ahead of me as I head into the buildup to the quad loop. But suddenly, I again spot someone at the end of the rink, and as I start to make the turn to go into my jump, something in the person’s hand emits a blindingly bright light that shocks my eyes. It’s too late to stop, because I’ve already launched my body into the air…and now, I’m unable to see at all.

There’s a reason that flash photography is strictly off limits at skating events. The bright light if it occurs close enough to the performing skater can cause what is called flash blindness. Depending on what causes it…a laser pointer, the flash on a camera or something else, the blindness can last anywhere from a few seconds to forever. But caught in the beginning of a jump and with scant seconds to react, it’s enough to bring on disaster, no matter how long the blindness lasts.

Usually, when I make a jump, I can execute the rotations without conscious thought, but with the shock of that bright light and the instant burst of adrenaline it causes, it’s impossible for me to pay attention to my position or revolutions. I am only aware that my inertia will carry me into the rink wall if I am unable to turn as I land. But I’ve even lost track of when to expect to touch the ice again. It’s a terrifying feeling as I feel my body dropping and there’s nothing I can do until I feel the ice again.

Even as fast as things are happening, I know I have no choice but to try to land flat footed to give myself the best opportunity to recover. But even doing that, I’m off balance when I do make contact with the ice, and I know instantly that I’m not going to be able to recover. I’m moving at high speed and unable to execute a turn. I’m going to hit the wall hard and the only thing left for me to do is to protect my head as my body collapses onto the ice and slides, out of control into the wall.

The impact is unforgiving and the sound in my ears is chilling. I feel sharp pain explode in my right shoulder, side and hip, and even though I’m pretty sure I didn’t hit my head, there’s such a heavy jolt, I’m not sure how I remain conscious. I hear gasps, and then some screams.

There’s something strange that happens in the aftermath too. I’m not sure why, but as soon as my body is fully stopped, pure adrenaline brings me back to my feet. I can feel right away that something is horribly wrong with me, but my mind stops working and a sort of fight or flight instinct takes over.

The music has stopped and I still can’t see properly. I stumble and I don’t know where I’m going. I hear Yakov yelling something and the sounds of more than one person skating towards me. All I can think of is that I want to get off the ice under my own power.

My vision begins to clear, and I see that I’ve left a trail of blood on the ice.

_Shit, this is bad._

My legs shake harder and I try to find the exit to the ice, but then my legs collapse under me, and I start to fall. Someone catches me before I hit the ice and I hear Georgi’s voice, then Yurio’s.

“We’ve got you.”

“Don’t move too much. Let us do it.”

I can see now the blood running down my right arm, and the initial shock is wearing off, so I’m beginning to really feel the pain. Two medics wait at the edge of the ice, and as soon as we reach the edge of the rink, Yakov is there with my blade covers. He slips them on and takes the side Georgi was on to guide me away from the ice and into the evaluation area.

“Yakov, I s-saw Modya! He was the one who flashed the light.”

“Modya,” he repeats, “Are you sure?”

“Positive.”

He snaps something in Russian to Maret, who runs off then.

“Be careful of his right side,” Yakov warns the medical personnel who meet us in the examination area, “He hit the wall on that side.”

He helps me onto a cot and I lie on my back, staring up at the white ceiling and trying to catch my breath. My head and right side throb so badly it brings tears to my eyes

_God, I hope nothing’s broken!_

One of the medics gets to work right away on my bleeding arm, cleaning it and bandaging a nasty looking gash while the other looks for other injuries. Unlike out there on the ice, the evaluation area is quieter. There’s a TV monitor, so I watch as the medics peel away my bloodied costume and begin to examine me.

“You can see it happen right here in the replay,” the commentator explains, “It’s clear that there is someone standing at the end of the rink, near the wall. You can see the flash just an instant before Nikiforov turns and begins his jump.”

“There’s no time to abort the jump,” says a second voice, “and despite doing everything he can to minimize the impact, he hits the wall dangerously hard.”

“It’ll be surprising if he is able to return to the ice after this. You can see how shaky he is when he gets up.”

“I think it’s just adrenaline that’s working there. He’s obviously disoriented and he has to be helped off the ice.”

“Under the rules, the medics will determine if Nikiforov will be able to resume skating, then if he is able, he will be given a rest period.”

“I don’t think we’ll be seeing him return. It’s obvious from the playback that he is very disoriented and was barely able to walk.”

The medics bare me to the waist, then slowly examine me from head to toe. One of the two looks into my eyes, giving me a sympathetic look.

“Mr. Nikiforov, can you see me properly?”

“Yes,” I manage shakily, “I couldn’t see anything after the light flashed, b-but I can now.”

“That’s good.”

He glances at the other medic, then back at me.

“You had a concussion recently?” he asks.

“Yes, about a month ago.”

“Hmm, it looks like you may have another.”

“I protected my head.”

“Well, you look dazed and you still seem a little disoriented.”

“I just ran into a wall while flash blinded. Can you blame me for being a little disoriented?”

“Well, your sense of humor seems to have survived. That’s a good sign,” he says, giving me a smile.

The medic examining my right side presses somewhere on my ribs and I take a hissing breath and curse in Russian.

“I’m sorry, Victor. Can you take a deep breath, please?”

I breathe in deeply, but have to groan a little because it causes some aching in my side.

“I don’t think this is a break. It seems like it is probably just bruised ribs.”

“Lucky me,” I mutter.

“I’m going to move your hip joint a little,” he says, taking hold of my right leg and bending gently, then pushing it towards my body, “Tell me how it feels.”

“It fucking hurts!” I snap at him, “Stop that!”

“Can you describe the pain?” he asks, setting it down carefully.

“It feels like some asshole just moved my sore leg and if it didn’t hurt, I would kick him with it.”

“He seems much more lucid now,” the guy by my head snickers.

“We have some soft tissue damage here,” the other medic reports, “but I don’t think anything is broken. For safety’s sake, I think we need x-rays of his right shoulder, ribs and hip.”

“Mr. Nikiforov,” says the guy I wasn’t just yelling at, “do you think you can stand?”

“I think so.”

The two of them support me carefully as I get onto my feet.

“Take a few slow steps.”

I manage the steps, but pain radiates in my right side and hip.

“My side and hip hurt…a lot.”

“Is the pain an aching or a splinter-like feeling?”

“Aching.”

“Can you breathe in deeply again?”

“Ugh, it hurts, but I can.”

“How is he?” Yakov asks as the two medics finish looking me over.

“I don’t think anything is broken,” one of the medics responds, “but I would not recommend having him continue. He has badly bruised ribs and may have a grade 2 concussion. There’s some tissue damage in his right hip, and any further stress would worsen that. I recommend having him transported for x-rays.”

“I don’t want to go to the hospital,” I complain, “I’m fine. You said that you don’t think anything is broken.”

“Well, we can’t be sure without an x-ray.”

“I’ll go home and rest. I don’t need to go and do all of that.”

“You need to be quiet and do what these men say!” Yakov snaps at me.

“Yakov, don’t yell at me. I hurt all over,” I whimper.

“Then, be quiet and do what you’re told!”

“Who are you, my mother?” I joke.

All of a sudden, I feel a jolt inside.

“Vitya, what’s wrong?”

“Mother? Where is Mother?” I demand.

“She’s fine,” Yakov assures me, “As soon as you mentioned Modya, I had our bodyguards take her to the car. They’ll wait for us there.”

One of the officials from the event enters the evaluation area.

“Coach Yakov, do we have a recommendation yet?” he asks.

Yakov gives me an apologetic look.

“Victor is going to need some x-rays and further assessment. He will have to drop from the competition.”

I knew it was coming, but it still hurts almost as much as my injured body. I still don’t want to go to the hospital, but Stefan accompanies me, and he keeps my spirits up as I’m examined again, jolted and jostled until I feel dizzy and sick while they x-ray me, then taken to a waiting room where I can’t even lie down while we wait for results. It turns out that there are no breaks, but the doctor prescribes some pain medication and sends me back to the hotel to rest. It’s late when we get back, and Yurio, Mila and Georgi are waiting for us as we arrive.

“Well?” Yurio says in an impatient tone, “What happened? Is anything broken?”

“No,” I tell them, “It’s a minor concussion, some pulled muscles and bruised ribs.”

“We listened to the news all evening,” Georgi tells us, “They didn’t catch the bastard who did this.”

“They showed a picture picked up by security cameras, but it was fuzzy and the guy had his face partially covered,” Mila adds.

“Well, I don’t need their cameras to tell me,” I say in a low, pained voice, “It was definitely Modya.”

“So, will they arrest him now?” Yurio asks, scowling.

“I don’t know,” Yakov says, rubbing his chin, “I’m not sure what will happen, but one thing is sure…we are going to have to be even more careful now.”

We say goodnight to the others and enter my room, where we find Mother waiting with our bodyguards. She hugs me carefully and Maret accompanies me to change in the bathroom. His expression is regretful.

“I’m sorry, Victor,” he apologizes, “I tried to figure out where he might have gone, but I didn’t see which way he went, and even the security footage wasn’t very helpful.”

“You did your best,” I sigh wearily, holding on to him as he helps me into my pajamas, “Thank you for trying.”

We go back out into the room and Mother tucks me in, then she and Yakov leave with one of the bodyguards, leaving two to watch over me while I sleep. Stefan remains in the room after everyone else leaves. He watches as I sit up on the bed, looking unhappily at the bottle of pain pills.

“Are you going to take them?” he asks, “It’s all right to take prescription medication, as long as you follow the instructions.”

“I know. I will. I was just waiting for Yuuri to call. He texted earlier to tell me he would call.”

The phone rings and I smile and answer without looking at the incoming number.

“Yuuri!”

“Victor,” Modya says, making me freeze and my eyes widen, “I’m done playing with you. Tell her that she has to come back. I will give her three days, then if she does not come back, I will kill you in front of her.”

There is a click as the call ends. Stefan watches me closely.

“Victor? Was that him? Was it Modya?”

“Yes,” I tell him, determination coming back into my eyes, “he wanted to issue an ultimatum, but now we have proof of what he’s doing. I have been having my calls recorded. We have a record of this threat. We can stop him by getting him arrested!”

The phone rings again, but this time, it’s Yuuri.

“Victor, I saw the reports and video on TV here! Are you all right?”

“I’m going to be fine,” I reassure him, “I had to drop from the European Championships, but I’m still qualified for worlds, based on my win at the Russian Nationals.”

“Did they catch the guy who flashed that light at you? Was it Modya?”

“It was Modya. I saw him. But, they didn’t catch him,” I explain, “Don’t worry, Yuuri. He made the mistake of calling me directly to threaten me again. I’m passing it on to the police. He won’t be able to do anything without getting caught now. They’re going to catch him, Yuuri. They’re going to put him away this time!”


	26. Healing Touch

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Victor recovers at home with family as he prepares to face Modya's wrath.

The night of the European Championship free skate, time seems to pass so slowly, I’m worried it will never end. Even with the pain medication knocking me loopy, the pain still leaks through. It’s amazing to me that so often when I’m told by doctors I should stay overnight, I don’t feel very bad, so I resist and always want to go home, but this time, when the doctor assures me that nothing is broken and I’m fine to go, I feel like either I must be dying, or dying would be more bearable than what I’m feeling.

Stefan and Maret are kind souls, and they try very hard to make me comfortable, giving me the pain pills when I’m supposed to have them, changing that bandage on my arm, arranging pillows around me and keeping me hydrated. I have to be helped to just go to the bathroom, and even though I want to soak, my arm is bandaged and can’t be submerged, and I’m also too groggy to be in a tub without drowning. I’m pretty much reduced to lying on the side that doesn’t hurt and moaning a mix of Russian swear words and Yuuri’s name. I’m so miserable that they call Yakov, and he and my mother come to give Stefan and Maret time to sleep some before our trip home in the morning.

Yakov, I think, doesn’t realize how bad it is. He scolds me that I should stop whining and whimpering like Maccachin and let everyone sleep. Usually, when Yakov scolds me, I just complain he’s mean, but he gets a very surprised look on his face when I just start to cry very softly. He looks kind of like he stepped on a kitten’s paw, and he gets quiet after that and just lets Mom comfort me.

I do manage to drop off for a couple of hours before morning, but I’m sorry when I wake and find the pain returning in fierce throbs. And getting up to go to the bathroom? I think I’ll let my bladder just fucking burst next time. Dying would be less painful than living like this. I’d feel sorry for myself, but the only thing I can do is hurt. It’s also not lost on me that time is passing, and there is a threat hanging over us. So, I put on my best face and let Mom help me dress, then I lean on Maret walking slowly to the car, then from the car to the airport gate, then onto the plane. I never knew so many damned steps existed between me and everything I usually do in a day. I’m relieved that the flight back to Saint Petersburg is kind of long. I lean against poor Maret, who is more a babysitter to me today than a bodyguard, but he’s very chill about it, and he even surprises me with some ice cream while we’re waiting to board our flight. For some reason, that really feels good. Maybe the cold of it is just distracting. Anyway, somehow, we make it all the way back to Saint Petersburg, where I refuse when Yakov says I should go and stay with my mother and him.

The reason why?

Well, because I have the world’s second best tub to soak in at home (next to the hot spring at Yutopia Katsuki, of course!), and it’s so big that Maret can sit with me and make sure I don’t drown or dunk my cut arm while I’m in there. Yakov grumbles and complains, but Stefan wins him over by promising that he and Filip will stay with Maret, Maccachin and me at the house until Yuuri arrives with his bodyguard.

I wonder if he has any idea how spoiled everyone else is making me.

Still, even with the pain pills, the hot soaks in the tub and lots of fluffy pillows, I. Hurt. All. Over. When they ask you at the doctor to describe your pain on a scale of one to ten, mine’s a twelve. But the thing is that when you’re hurting so bad that you’re barely able to sleep? You eventually become exhausted and your body just says _Whatever, I’m tired,_ and you sleep. I hit that more figurative wall and go to sleep in my bed, finally.

And I wake up again feeling something that is more beautiful and precious to me than _anything_!

As I start to wake, I feel someone is holding my cut arm very gently, slowly unwrapping it and carefully cleaning the wound, then wrapping it again…not to tight, just perfectly, so it’s got a little pressure on it, but doesn’t feel constricting. Then, I feel fingers in my hair and an angel’s voice telling me it’s time for more pain pills. I open my eyes a little and the light coming through the window blinds me for a moment, but I see the outline of my sweet, beautiful Yuuri, sitting beside me. He holds my head up a little, so I can swallow the pills with a little water.

“When did you get here?” I ask him, “It doesn’t seem like it’s been long enough.”

“That’s because you’ve been so out of it after getting hurt. I was lying down with you before and you didn’t even notice I was there,” he says, sounding a little worried.

“Eh, it’s just the pain pills are wiping me out. Maybe I’ll only take one next time. The pain might be getting less.”

I give him a weary smile.

“Or maybe it’s that I finally have my _solnyshko_ back.”

Yuuri’s smile is melting.

“Are you hungry?” he asks, “Maret said that you’ve barely been eating. I can make you whatever you want.”

I look at the clock by the bed and shake my head.

I’ll want a soak first. I’m getting up after this. We need to go and talk to the police about everything. Yakov…”

“Yakov already went to talk to them,” Yuuri tells me, “He said that he and Mirra-san will be over when he gets back.”

Yuuri helps me out of bed and we head for the hot tub for a long soak. It isn’t just being in the hot water that feels so good. I cuddle up next to my Yuuri and I feel so much better there. My right side, hip and the upper part of my legs are horribly bruised. I look like a damned freight train hit me or something. My cheek is bruised on that side too. I have to keep my cut arm out of the water, so it’s a little awkward, but we manage.

“So, are you going to tell me about the Four Continents? You didn’t tell me when we talked before, about how it went.”

Yuuri blushes a little.

“Eh, I made the podium, but it was just the silver.”

I smirk at him and shake my head.

“Yuu-ri,” I scold him, extending his name and narrowing my eyes, “are you telling me that you let JJ beat you? Why would you do that?”

Yuuri takes a little breath before answering.

“Maybe because I was distracted by worrying about you. I was having bad dreams while we were apart. I kept dreaming about you getting hurt, and then you did.”

“I’m sorry, Yuuri,” I apologize, “We did take precautions, but…”

“But who could know that Modya would be so bold to attack you like that in front of other people? Victor, that man really scares me.”

“Well, he won’t be so scary once he’s arrested. I have proof that he threatened to kill me. He isn’t going to be able to get out of that. And then, this will be over.”

“I hope it will,” Yuuri sighs, resting his chin on top of my head.

“Cheer up, Yuuri,” I chuckle, “We’re back together now, and we don’t have to be apart again until next skating season. We’ll train for worlds here, together.”

He gives me a curious look and bites his lip gently.

“Are you sure you’re going to be healed up enough to compete?” he asks, “You’ve got some pulled muscles in your hip and leg.”

“I’ll be fine,” I insist, “I’m not missing my very first time to compete against the new and very sexy Yuuri Katsuki. I’ve been waiting for this ever since our first Grand Prix Finals.”

“Me too,” he says, blushing, “I’m so happy that it’s finally going to happen.”

“Me too,” I say, hugging him with my good arm.

I’m feeling so much better as we get out of the tub and Yuuri dries me off and helps me dress in soft pajamas. He offers to bring me lunch in bed.

_So cute!_

“I want to walk a little,” I tell him, “Let’s eat in the kitchen.”

I have to lean against him, and it really hurts to walk at all, but I know I have to get my leg moving, so we walk around the house a little with Maccachin walking along and sniffing at me worriedly, and I sit down on a chair and have Yuuri stretch my leg very gently. After that, I relax at the table while he makes lunch for our bodyguards and us. The four of us are settled in the kitchen together when Yakov and my mother come through the front door with a few other people. I look for a moment, then my eyes get wide.

“Irishka!” I exclaim.

I start to jump up, forgetting my injuries for a moment, but a sharp twinge in my hip makes me stop, and Yuuri rushes to help me more slowly to hug my sister, her two kids and her husband, Sasha.

“Svetka! Mitka! You’ve grown so big since I last saw you,” I tell the kids.

“Uncle Vitya!” the two laugh, hugging me gently to avoid hurting me.

“Sasha, Irishka, kids, this is Yuuri Katsuki, my fiancé,” I tell them.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Yuuri,” Sasha says warmly.

“Sasha and the kids and I enjoyed watching you compete this year,” Irishka adds, hugging Yuuri, “You are very talented.”

“Thank you so much,” Yuuri answers, blushing at the compliment.

“Vitya,” Irishka says in a worried voice, “are you okay? We all saw what happened at the competition.”

“I’m bumped and bruised, but I’m fine,” I assure her, “Are you and the kids hungry? We were just having lunch. Please join us. There’s plenty.”

“I’ll take care of it,” Yuuri volunteers.

“I’ll help you,” Mom offers as the rest of us sit down at the table.

“What are you doing here?” I ask my sister, once we’ve settled at the big table and the children are at a smaller table, with Maccachin nuzzling them and begging for food from them, “I haven’t seen you and Sasha and the kids in several years!”

“W-well, I’m sorry for that,” Irishka apologizes, “Vitya, you know that it’s been hard a lot of the time, because Papa has been angry a lot. I know we don’t live with him, but since Mother left with…erm…to go with Mr. Feltsman, he’s been over to our house and he’s so angry. He’s been coming sometimes when Sasha is at work, and he makes me afraid I’ll say something wrong and he’ll hurt me or the children.”

“And that gets to the reason we came to see you,” Sasha says, glancing at Irishka, “We are worried after seeing what happened to you. We talked to Mama and Mr. Feltsman, and they told us that it was Papa who flashed that light and made you fall.”

“It was,” I affirm, “I saw him clearly, just before the light flashed and blinded me. He has been threatening me that if Mother doesn’t go home, he is going to do horrible things.”

“Well,” says Irishka, “we thought you should know that recently, he sold the home we grew up in, and he has taken the proceeds from that and disappeared.”

“What? We were just there a few months ago, when I went to see Mother, before she came to live here.”

“When she left, he went crazy,” Irishka explains in a scared voice, “He broke a lot of things in the house and he came to both my home and Servil’s. He wasn’t violent with us, but he made it clear that if she came to either of us, he wanted us to convince her to come back to him. I don’t know what Servil might have said back to him, but he and his wife have a new baby, so they are probably scared too. And we are all more scared since it’s hard to know where he is or when he might show up at our house again.”

“That is troublesome,” I agree, “and I’m sorry for the trouble. I feel partially responsible, since this all got set off when I began remembering things from when we were kids, and I went to talk to Mother. I saw signs that he was still mistreating her and I was just trying to offer her a safe place to go.”

“It’s not your fault,” Irishka says, taking my hands, “Papa is the one who did something wrong to all of us. As a boy, you were just trying to help Mama, and that’s still what you’re doing now. It doesn’t matter to Sasha and me that Yakov is really your father. We know about why Mama was out in the cold that night they were together. Mama told us. And all we want now is for all of us to be safe. So, we came to see you and Mama, to warn you about what Papa has been doing and what he’s been saying to us since she left.”

“Thank you both,” I say gratefully.

“It was both courageous and very helpful that you and Sasha were willing to give statements to the police to support Victor’s claim that he has been abusive for many years,” Yakov adds, “The police are finally taking Modya’s threats towards Mirra and Victor more seriously. Unfortunately, since he has liquidated his assets and he’s been moving around, it’s hard for them to locate him. The burden is on us and the security people we’ve hired to make sure he doesn’t harm us.”

“I’m so sorry, Vitya,” Irishka says, touching the bruise on my face gently with her fingertips, “I’m sorry he hurt you. I wish there was something we could do to convince him to stop all of this.”

“There never was much we could do,” Mother sighs sadly, “The police have always tended not to want to involve themselves with how a man runs his household. There is not always a way to get out of a situation like mine. Modya is obsessed, and I don’t know what it will take to stop him. But, I can’t stand by while he hurts any of you children.”

“Don’t worry, Mama,” Irishka assures her, “We will be okay. And now that we’ve done what we could to help with the investigation, I feel encouraged.”

“Irishka and the kids and I have to return home,” Sasha tells us, “but we will let the authorities know if Modya comes to see us again.”

“And if he does come, and he knows we came to Saint Petersburg, we won’t tell him we were helping,” Irishka informs me, “We plan to tell him we were trying to talk to Mama about going back to him.”

“Whatever you have to do so that he won’t blame you,” I advise her, “Let him keep his focus on me. I have protection, and the authorities are helping me now. There’s no reason for you and the children to be endangered. If you need some protection, I’m sure Yakov or I can help you with that.”

“We will be all right,” Irishka assures me, “I think if we just tell him we were trying to talk to Mama about coming home, he should be satisfied.”

“And once he is caught, Irishka will absolutely give whatever statements or testimony you need her to, about what happened when you were children, and also about what Modya has been saying to us,” Sasha adds.

“Thank you again. That is a relief.”

We spend the rest of the afternoon together, catching up. The children, it turns out, are big fans of Yuuri’s, so Yuuri, Sasha and Yakov take the children to the ice center to skate together for fun, while Mother and Irishka stay to fuss over me and spoil me rotten. It is the closest I’ve felt to my family in a very long time, and I’m sad as the day ends and they prepare to leave.”

“Be careful, Vitya,” my sister says, hugging me carefully and kissing me on the cheek, “If we hear from Papa, or from Servil, we will let you know.”

“I am going to keep trying to reach Servil too,” I tell her, “I want to know what Modya has been saying to him.”

We finish saying goodbye, and Maccachin nuzzles the children and sulks for awhile after they’re gone. Yuuri and I retreat to our bedroom, and we soak in the hot tub before settling in for the night. I’m sore all over from being up and around, but my hip joint seems better. Now, if only the ugly bruises would go away, but they just seem to be uglier, even though they are beginning to lighten some.

“Did you say that you want only one pill this time?” Yuuri asks me.

I think for a moment, then sigh and shake my head.

“I think I should try not to use them anymore.”

“Victor!” he objects, “It’s obvious you’re hurting. Why would you do that?”

“Well,” I tell him, “part of my concern is that I’m already fighting one addiction, and opiates are very addictive, so I don’t want to add another.”

“But, you have another concern?”

“Yes,” I tell him, “Yuuri, Modya is going to come after me soon. I can’t afford to be anything less than ready. I need to be fully aware and very careful, and I want you to be careful too. We must not give Modya any openings.”

Unfortunately for Yuuri and for me, while we’re preparing, Modya is busy planning something that we have no idea is coming.

Something that I can’t imagine.

Something so diabolical, there is no escaping it.

_Lies._

_They are insidious._

_They are relentless._

_And they are sometimes heartbreaking._


	27. The Littlest Things

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Victor finds peace and hope in the little things.

By the next morning, even though I still hurt all over and I look like the walking dead, I can’t contain an urge to at least be able to watch as Yuuri skates, if I can’t skate, myself. I lower my pride and take a pain pill when I wake up, then I soak for awhile and have Yuuri gently stretch my injured leg, while I clench my teeth and hiss out more than a few very nasty words. I make them in Russian, but Yuuri knows they’re not nice words anyway, and he smirks and shakes his head when I say them.

“You should rest more,” Yuuri complains, “You need to give your body time to heal.”

“I’m not trying to run a marathon,” I snap irritably, “I’m warming the muscles and only gently stretching.”

“You shouldn’t even think of putting on your skates. Promise you’ll just watch, Victor.”

“I will just watch, but I need to be on my skates to stay near enough to coach you.”

“Oh, stop it!” he scolds me, “Yakov doesn’t have to get on the ice, and neither did Celestino, when he coached me before. You’re just saying that because you can’t stand not being able to skate, but you know you shouldn’t be on skates today. What if you fall and make your leg worse?”

“I’m not going to fall,” I snap back at him, “I’m not going to be doing anything but moving to be near you, so I can talk to you without yelling.”

Yuuri gives me a cheeky grin.

“What do you mean you don’t want to have to yell at me?” he laughs, “You _always_ yell at me. Victor, please, just don’t take your skates today. I don’t want to have to feel worried about you falling or maybe getting run into by someone being clumsy or just being a jerk.”

“You don’t have to worry about Andrei,” I snicker, “He’s actually been pretty okay lately.”

“Come on, Victor,” he groans, “I’m going to hide your skates!”

“Don’t you dare,” I laugh, “I’ll hurt myself trying to find them, and then you’ll be sorry.”

“Victor!”

“All right, all right,” I sigh, “I won’t bring my skates.”

_Of course, I have an extra pair at the ice center anyway._

When we get to the rink, I wait until Yuuri’s back is turned, then find my extra skates and put them on. He spots me as I step onto the ice and yells at me.

“Victor!”

“What?” I ask, matter-of-factly, “You told me not to bring my skates. I didn’t bring my skates.”

“Oh my god,” he groans, covering his face with his hands.

“Be quiet and warm up,” I scold him, “We have worlds in about a month and you are not going to embarrass me or yourself by losing to JJ again!”

“Just can’t let me forget about that, huh?”

“Nope. You’re a much better skater than that silly peacock.”

“You really shouldn’t be calling other people a peacock,” he says dryly, “You’re even more of one.”

“There’s a difference between me calling him that and you saying that,” I chuckled.

“Oh?” he says skeptically, “What’s that?”

“It’s that _I_ have never lost to him, and he has definitely lost to me. It’s not puffing myself up if I’ve proven I can beat him consistently.”

“Ugh!” Yuuri huffs, skating away and kicking up flecks of ice, “I beat him in the Grand Prix Finals! And I set a world record. I broke your world record! He’s never done that!”

“Hmm, I suppose not,” I say, touching my chin thoughtfully, “but then, _I’ve_ beaten him _and_ never been beaten by him, so I guess I can call him pretty much what I want. Now, do you want to skate today or just quarrel?”

“Huh, what’s the difference?” he mutters under his breath, “Victor is being a pain today.”

“What was that?” I ask, tilting my head and frowning.

“Nothing,” he snaps, turning and skating away from me again.

“Vitya!” Yakov yells, “Do you want to tell me what the hell you think you are doing on those skates? GET OFF THE ICE!”

“I’m not even doing anything dangerous,” I complain, “I’m just staying close to Yuuri so that I can instruct him.”

“Get off the ice!” he yells again, “Just stand by the wall and shout like a normal coach!”

“But, I’m not a normal coach,” I argue.

“You can say that again!” he snaps, “You’re an idiot who is asking for trouble. You’re not in any shape to be standing on stable ground, let alone on slippery ice. Your muscles are already torn and sprained. The only thing you’re going to do by pushing yourself too much is end up taking longer to heal.”

“I’m standing still on the ice except to move around a little to talk to my student!” I snap back at him, “You don’t see me jumping or spinning, so back off, old man! You’re starting to annoy me.”

Yakov growls out something that’s not fit for young ears and turns his back, while Yuuri sighs and shakes his head, then goes back to his warm up.

_It seems like we’re all on edge. I think all of us know that we are running out of time. Modya hasn’t been located by the authorities, and until he is captured, we’re all in danger…although I’m the only one who he said he would kill._

_I guess that makes sense._

_He mistreated my mother, and because he did that, she met Yakov, and they made me. Modya has never wanted to look at how his own mistakes caused everything. They even caused my existence. He would do anything to erase that now._

_When I was in Japan, I heard somewhere, a man who was talking about balances…and how when something goes out of balance, the energy of the universe creates an opposite force to balance it. So, in this case, it seems that Modya’s cruelty and his violence created the opportunity for me to live. While I’m glad to live, I still wish that he hadn’t ever hurt my mother. Maybe I would still have been born, but I would have been his own son. Maybe, I wouldn’t have been damaged by him._

_I don’t know, but it sounds okay. If his cruelty made me live, then I guess I will be happy to be someone who will always try to be kind and not violent. Maybe the Japanese are right about a world that balances itself. It seems like it would need to do that to survive._

“Victor?” Yuuri says, appearing in front of me and bringing me out of my reverie, “Are you all right? Your expression looks…strange.”

“I am fine, Yuuri,” I assure him, watching as he begins to skate again.

_Are Yuuri and I also brought together by that universal need for balance? I felt alone, although I was surrounded by so many people who loved me from a distance. I couldn’t accept love or feel close to any of them. I needed someone very special, and the universe answered with Yuuri Katsuki?_

_I’ve felt for a long time now that we were meant for each other. And I fulfill Yuuri’s needs too. It’s like when we were apart, we were a bit broken, but being together makes us complete. We complement each other so well. Together, we are in balance._

_That is such a great comfort._

“What are you doing here on skates, Victor?” Yurio asks as he steps onto the ice to begin his practice, “You look like hell.”

“Don’t you start with me too,” I snap irritably, “Get over on your own side of the rink, shut your mouth and practice. Your win in the European Championships was pitiful.”

“At least I didn’t crash and burn… _literally_!” he huffs, “If you hadn’t been attacked by that moron, I would have beaten you!”

“In your dreams, kitten,” I tease him, “Beating my short program record doesn’t mean you can beat me yet. You _still_ have not come close to touching my overall performance record. Beat that and you can talk to me about being better than me, okay? Until then, why don’t you get some practice? If you _ever_ want to be more than talk, you need to work a bit more.”

“Tch!” he huffs, kicking the ice aggressively with his toe pick, “We’ll see who’s all talk when we meet at worlds.”

“Yes,” I agree, giving him an amused look, “and we’ll see who is just an alley cat, yowling and screeching. But, I guess you should be getting all you can out of the Agape program I made for you…because come next season, you won’t have me handing you a winning program, then we’ll see how you really stack up next to people like Yuuri and me, who not only skate well, but can produce our own programs.”

Yuuri joins me, watching as Yurio mutters something insulting and skates away.

“Why do you do that?” he asks, shaking his head, “Why do you even answer when he challenges you like that? You do know that you’re creating a monster, right?”

“Yes,” I agree.

“Why, Victor?”

“Why?” I repeat, tilting my head and meeting his eyes with an expression that chides him for not already knowing, “I motivate him this way so that he will continue to challenge me. If I’m not challenged constantly, I won’t be motivated to grow as a skater. Remember, Yuuri, that’s also part of the reason I went to Hasetsu to motivate you. I created, not one monster, but two.”

I pause and grow a little smirk on my lips.

“Although, you are a much cuter monster than he is.”

“Victor!” he complains, blushing as I steal a kiss.

I’m pretty much expecting that Yurio will be watching and will make a snarky comment. When he doesn’t, I look over and see him complaining to Otabek, who makes him suddenly stop as he touches Yurio’s cheek with an open palm and says something quietly back to him. As Yuuri and I watch, the tension goes out of his body and he relaxes and nods. I get a goofy, proud grin on my face and grab Yuuri’s arm.

“Look at that!” I gush playfully, “Our boy is growing up so fast!”

“Victor…” Yuuri chuckles.

“Pretty soon, we’ll have to just have sex on the ice to get him flustered,” I giggle.

“Oh my god!” Yuuri complains, “Will you stop?”

We continue to be a little silly for the rest of Yuuri’s training time, but I think with what is hanging over us, we need this time to remember what is good in our lives…the everyday, little things we forget quickly, but that bring beauty to our lives. Those moments of verbal play, of challenge and bravado, of teasing and scolding. All of this makes us feel alive inside.

_I want very much to stay alive._

_This is what will make me fight hard to stay alive._

When Yuuri’s practice time is over, I piss him off a little more by having him practice figures with me.

“You’re not supposed to be doing anything at all right now,” he complains at me, “If Yakov comes out here, he’ll probably pop a vein, yelling at you for doing this, then yelling at me for letting you.”

“Shh, I need to know what motions hurt, so I can avoid hurting myself as I heal. Come now, you know you love skating near me, just like I love skating near you. Stay close to me, Yuuri…and be sure to catch me if I start to fall.”

“Oh, I don’t like this at all!”

He still wants to argue, but I think he knows that I’m not going to listen. We go slowly, working carefully and finding the positions that hurt more and hurt less. I can adjust my stretches and practice to reduce stress on my healing leg, without completely losing practice time over the next few days. Yakov comes out of his office and spots us working together, but instead of yelling at us, he just crosses his arms and watches over us. He knows the truth of the situation. We have limited time, so I may not be able to fully heal before worlds. I will need to make adjustments to my practices and maybe to my programs, so that I will be able to do my best. I’ve waited a long time and poured my heart and soul into making it so that Yuuri and I will meet on the ice again as competitors.

 _I am going to be ready_.

After practice, Maret and Sava escort Yuuri and me home. As we head inside, Maret stops us in the entry for a moment.

“Victor, Yuuri, I think since tomorrow is the last day of the three days that Modya gave Mirra to return to him, and there is a direct and credible threat to Victor’s life, we need to prepare you for some things that could happen. Have either of you had any self defense training?”

Yuuri shakes his head and I have to do the same.

“We’re dancers, not so much fighters,” I answer.

“And Victor’s still hurt,” Yuuri adds.

“There are still some things you and Victor can do if something happens and you need to defend yourselves,” Sava adds, “Before dinner, I think we should go over these things and make sure you are prepared. We will, of course, do our best to see that you don’t have to use what we show you, but if you are in a bind and need it, you’ll have this in your arsenal.”

The argument makes a lot of sense, so Yuuri and I listen and watch carefully as the two teach us some very basic defenses, using things like vulnerable places on an attacker’s body, pressure points and body positioning to allow us to fend off gun or knife attacks. I’m sure we won’t remember everything they teach us, but it is good, sensible knowledge that could also be lifesaving. It’s scary we have to learn it, but Maret is right that our lives are in danger, and we need to be prepared as best we can be.

We finish the self defense prep, then Yuuri and I have a long soak in the tub, while our bodyguards make dinner. They’ll stay very close to us now, even staying in the house, so that we’re not left alone for a minute. It’s unnerving in a way, but at the same time, comforting to have them there.

“Victor,” Yuuri says, pressing up against my not hurt side as we sit in the hot tub, “are you scared?”

“Of course I am,” I admit, “Who wouldn’t be?”

We have a little moment of levity as we smile at each other and answer together.

“Yurio.”

“He’d just get mad,” Yuuri sighs, “I wish I could be as brave as he is.”

“I don’t think he’s as brave as he looks,” I reply, nuzzling Yuuri’s cheek, “He just uses anger to cover when he’s feeling intimidated. I don’t think any of us feel very brave right now. Modya is crazy. There is no telling what he’ll do. But we have each other, and we have Maret and Sava watching out for us. We’ll be all right.”

We’re quiet and we just hold each other comfortingly instead of making love. When we’re done, we dry off and head out to the table for dinner. We cheer up a little as we eat together, but it’s hard to wind down for sleeping. It’s pretty late before I start to drop off. I’m almost asleep when my phone rings and the number on the screen is my brother, Servil’s.

“Servil!” I exclaim, “Finally, you are answering. Are you and Lena all right?”

“We are all right,” my brother answers, “but I need to talk to you, Vitya. I want to meet you tomorrow.”

“Fine. Yes, I will meet you, but where?” I ask.

“I am in Saint Petersburg and Lena and I are visiting with a friend here.”

“Have you talked to Irishka? She said you weren’t answering her either.”

“Not yet. I’m sorry about that,” he apologizes, “Vitya, Father has been with us a lot, ranting about mother leaving him. He’s got Lena so frightened, she wants to take our baby and go stay with her parents for awhile. We came to Saint Petersburg to get away for a little bit, so things can calm down. I also want to see you and tell you what he’s been saying. I’m worried that he’s going to do something horrible!”

It’s fine. Just give me the address and I’ll come to see you tomorrow. I will have a bodyguard with me. I don’t leave the house without him since Modya began making threats against me.”

“It’s fine. Bring whoever you want, just make sure that you’re not too obvious. I don’t really want Father to know that we’re talking to you. I want to help, but I have to think about the danger to Lena and the baby.”

“Of course, of course,” I agree, “We’ll meet tomorrow, then.”

“Good,” he sighs in a relieved tone, “Vitya, I’ve felt really bad that I haven’t been there for you. I’ll try to make it up to you now.”

“You don’t have to do that,” I assure him, feeling a warmth inside that I haven’t felt for a long time, “We are brothers. You don’t need to make anything up to me. We’ll catch up tomorrow, then.”

“Yes,” he says softly, “We’ll catch up tomorrow, Vitya.”


	28. Don't Let the Monster In

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Victor reflects on his past and his relationship with Yuuri.

After talking to my brother, I curl up again in Yuuri’s arms and very slowly, I drop off to sleep. And while sleeping, another very distant memory returns in odd, disorienting flickers.

_It’s late at night and I’m burrowed into my bed, when I hear the front door open and close, and my father’s voice sounds, his words garbled and his tone impatient. My heart starts to pound as I hear my mother say something back. Her voice is calm and quiet…cajoling. He gets quieter again, and I hug my pillow, my eyes burning a little as I try to keep them closed and breathe slowly to fall asleep again. But as the moments pass, Father’s voice grows louder and more angry. I burrow under the blankets and wrap the pillow around my head, quivering._

_When I hear him yell, my small, five-year-old body shoots out of the bed and I run to my bedroom door. My heart in my throat, I open it and creep into the hallway, listening. The arguing goes on, and it gets louder. I hear a slapping sound and my father’s infuriated voice as he scolds my mother._

_When I peek around the corner to look into the kitchen, I’m so afraid that what I see is burned into my mind._

_My mother stands with her back against the wall, and my father’s body pressed up against it. His hands are wrapped tightly around her wrists, and his eyes look wild and deadly. His face is a mask of blind rage, and he looks like he’s changed into some kind of huge, rabid monster._

_I can’t move and those dread eyes are turning to look at me._

_I know something really bad will happen if those hateful eyes find me, but my little body is absolutely petrified._

_Just when I know I can’t escape them, an arm wraps around my waist and a hand covers my mouth. I’m pulled back to safety and held against a bigger child’s body._

_“Shh, bratishka (little brother), come with me,” Servil breathes into my ear._

_We take slow, silent backward steps until we reach his bedroom, while my father continues to yell at my mother and she tries to answer calmly, but her voice is shaking._

_“Mama?”_

_“No, Vitya, you must stay with me,” Servil warns me._

_“But Mama was being hurt by a monster! He used to be Papa, but he turned into a monster!” I whimper, looking back down the hall._

_We hear Papa swear, then footsteps coming towards us. Servil drags me into his room and closes the door, then shoves me into his bed and climbs in next to me. He hugs me against him tightly._

_“Don’t let the monster in!” I whisper, my eyes tightly closed and my chest heaving, “Don’t let the monster in!”_

_“Shh, bratishka, it’s okay. Shh…”_

_The footsteps come closer, and they stop at my room. I hear the door to my bedroom open, and the monsters growls my name._

_I quiver in Servil’s arms._

_“Don’t let the monster in! Don’t let the monster in! Don’t let the monster in!” I whimper, barely audibly._

_“VITYA!” my father shouts, “Why are you out of bed? Come here now! Don’t make me come and find you, you little bastard.”_

_I’m not sure how I wriggle free of my brother’s arms, but I bolt, and head for the window as the monster’s footsteps approach. Servil hisses my name and follows me outside. We drop down into the snow and he shuts the window soundlessly and takes my hand._

_“Run!” he mouths, pulling on my hand as the light goes on in the bedroom behind us._

_We run through the snow on bare feet, our breath misting and neither of us daring to speak aloud. We hear the monster shouting out the window, but he doesn’t seem to follow as we flee down a little, barely visible trail that leads into a lot of trees, then down to the frozen pond we sometimes skate on. There’s a certain tree that we stop at and climb. Hidden in the branches is a little fort made from old planks, and inside it is a thick, warm sleeping bag and a pillow that we keep there. Servil’s hands shake as he pushes me up into the branches and he looks back to make sure the monster isn’t there. Then, he follows me up and we bury ourselves in the warmth of the sleeping bag. He wraps himself around me, hugging me to his chest like something precious._

_It’s then that I notice my cheeks feel colder than the rest of me, and it’s because they’re drenched in tears._

_“D-don’t let the monster in…” I sob very softly._

_“I won’t,” Servil promises, “not ever, Vitya. Sleep now. It’s warm enough in here with both of us. We’re okay until morning, when the monster will be gone and we can go home. The monster doesn’t know this place and the snow on the trail is packed, so he can’t find our footsteps. We’re safe, bratishka. I promise, we’re safe.”_

_“Why does the monster always look for me?” I whisper in a quivering voice, “Is it because I look like her? I don’t have dark hair like you and Irishka?”_

_“I don’t know.”_

_“Could we make my hair dark?”_

_Servil’s fingers are cold as they play with the messy strands of my long, silvery hair._

_“No. Vitya’s hair is perfect the way it is,” he assures me, “It’s not about your hair.”_

_“Then, what is it about? Why does he want to hurt me?”_

_“Shh, go to sleep now. You’re safe. I have you.”_

I sit up in bed next to Yuuri with Servil’s voice still echoing in my ears. Yuuri’s eyes open and he looks up at me with a worried expression.

“Victor?”

“I’m fine,” I assure him.

“It was a bad dream?” he asks, sitting up beside me.

I run my fingers through my hair and nod.

“A dream…or I think, a memory. I was remembering my brother and me, running away from our house in the middle of the night. My father was drunk and angry. I thought he turned into a monster. I heard him yell my name, and my brother led me away from the house to an old fort we made together.”

Yuuri’s expression is both tender and sad.

“It’s good he protected you like that,” he says sympathetically, “It sounds like you were close.”

“We were…until I left to live at the dormitory. Servil didn’t just protect me from Modya. At school, he protected me from the bullies and he told me not to fight them, but to let him fight so I could run away. I would run a little, but then, I would stop and hide where I could see him fight. He was so brave. He would get in trouble for fighting all of the time and Mother would scold him. I wanted to tell her Servil was protecting me from the bullies, but he told me not to. He said that I should never get involved, but let him do the fighting because he was older and bigger. He didn’t want me to ever get hurt and even more than that, he knew I didn’t want to be a monster like our father was. Whenever I started to get angry as a child, I was afraid there would be a monster inside me, just like there was in my father.”

I run my hands over my face and sigh.

“Except he wasn’t really my father at all. I didn’t understand before, but it makes sense how he liked to find fault with me. He was always trying to scold me about something. I didn’t understand why he hated me. He knew or suspected all along that he wasn’t my father, and that was probably why he was so angry all of the time.”

“But you know that even if it hadn’t been for that, Modya was an alcoholic and a violent person. If it hadn’t been for that, he would have found another reason.”

“You’re right, of course,” I sigh, laying down and curling up to Yuuri’s warm body. His fingers remind me again of Servil’s as they play in my hair.

“It’s so sad that your father was so awful to you,” he whispers, kissing the top of my head, “but it’s good that you had your older brother protecting you. He does sound like he was very brave.”

“I feel bad sometimes that I drifted apart from Servil and from Irishka when I moved to live in the dormitory, but the truth is that when Modya beat me so badly that last time and I had to be in the hospital, I was so scared to death that I blocked out a lot. I had a small, quiet room in the dormitory, and there were monitors on the halls to make sure it didn’t get too loud. I was lonely and I missed my mother and siblings, but I was glad to be away from the monster. I didn’t have to be afraid, and my whole life became about skating, something I always loved to do. I just buried myself in that and tried to forget everything else.”

“I was kind of like that about skating too,” Yuuri admits, “When I moved away from Japan to live in Detroit while I was training to qualify for the Grand Prix series, I buried myself in skating so I wouldn’t think about the fact that years were passing, and I’d never been in love with anyone or had a girlfriend. I always kind of wondered what was wrong with me. I couldn’t figure it out, so I just focused on skating and let everything else go.”

I give Yuuri a little smile and nuzzle his cheek affectionately.

“I think you’re a little bit wrong about something,” I comment.

“Hmm?” he says, looking at me curiously.

“You say that you had never been in love with anyone,” I recall for him, “but if you think about it, the truth might be that you were already in love with someone, you just didn’t know that’s what it was.”

Yuuri considers for a moment, then he lets out an amused breath and rest his chin on the top of my head.

“Well, I don’t know if I’d call that love,” he chuckles, “It was more like obsession. I skated because I loved to skate.”

“But why did you love to skate?” I ask, “Why did it make you feel better when you were anxious? Think about what was in your mind when you went to the ice rink and calmed yourself by skating figures like that. Because, I will bet you my entire life’s fortune, I can tell you right now.”

Yuuri’s head tilts and his brown eyes widen a little.

“You were thinking about me a lot of those times, weren’t you?” I ask.

His surprised look gets more surprised, then he shakes his head a little.

“Well, I did think about you a lot, but that was just because I idolized you, and more than anything, I wanted to skate on the same ice as you.”

“Well,” I say, smirking at him, “that sounds a little bit like schoolboy love, doesn’t it?”

“Does it?” he asks.

I sit up a little to look at him.

“Think of how boys usually act when they see a beautiful girl,” I tell him, “They think she’s beautiful, but they think that if they want to get to know that girl, they have to get close to her. So, they look for something that they have in common, and whatever they have in common, the boy uses that to meet the girl. It happens all of the time, Yuuri. I think that something similar happened to you and me.”

“You think I just became a skater to meet you?” he asks, giving me a funny look.

“It’s not that simple. I think that our love of skating existed independently in both of us. I’m saying that when your love of skating led you to look at other skaters and you saw me, seeing me inspired you to want to come closer to me. Skating was something you loved and when you saw that I loved skating too, and that I was a talented skater, you wanted to get closer to that. It was about skating, but it was also about wanting to be noticed by me.”

Yuuri frowns.

“But that was just hero worship…” he argues.

“Was it?” I ask, “Because the world is full of people who worship other people, but they don’t go on to try to meet those people to challenge them.”

“But, then, isn’t it for the challenge?” he asks.

“What were you dreaming would happen when we met on the ice.”

“Um…certainly not coming in last and embarrassing myself in front of you,” he laughs.

“You…wanted to _surprise me_.”

Yuuri blinks in shock and his mouth drops open a little.

“What is the thing that has always driven my programs?”

“You want to surprise people with your skating,” he answers, nodding.

“And…if a young, beautiful boy from Japan came to the Grand Prix Finals and surprised Victor Nikiforov with his wonderful skating, what did you think was going to happen? Think hard, Yuuri. What _exactly_ was the image in your mind that you thought would happen if we met as equals?”

He’s quiet for a minute or two before an answer comes to him.

“Well, to be honest?” he says finally, “The picture in my mind was always Victor looking at me, seeing me and smiling.”

“Okay, and what do you think every boy first imagines when he looks at a girl and wants to meet her and get closer to her?”

“Eh, he wants to kiss her?”

“Not right away, no,” I correct him, “The first step is always, wanting to be noticed, then to charm the person with what they have in common.”

“But…I never…I mean, that wasn’t what I was thinking at all!” Yuuri insists, “I wasn’t thinking about kissing you or anything like that!”

“You wanted me to notice you. Maybe you weren’t ready back then to imagine more, and that’s okay. Tell me this, when you thought of me looking at you and noticing you, what did you feel happen in your body?”

“Uh, you are asking if I got a…?”

“No,” I laugh, “it’s not as obvious as that. It’s a feeling, deep in your belly. You know, Yuuri, our center of balance is a place in our core, and when we meet someone who really resonates with us, we feel a twinge right there, in that very deep place in our core. You’ve felt it, right?”

Yuuri’s breath catches and he nods.

“I felt that…”

“Don’t tell me. I’ll tell you. You felt it when you thought of me looking at you, noticing you and acknowledging you.”

“But, when you actually did look at me after I crashed and burned at my first Grand Prix Finals, I just felt humiliated.”

“No, that was after, wasn’t it?”

“After?”

“Think hard, Yuuri, remember what you felt the very moment my head turned and our eyes met. You felt a twinge right there, even if just for a moment, before you went on to feeling humiliated. Am I right?”

“Um…you know, yes,” he stammers, shaking his head in wonder, “I did feel that. But I always felt that when I would look at you.”

“You gave me the very same feeling…two times, Yuuri,” I tell him.

His eyes lock on mine and he looks shocked.

“I’ll bet you can tell me when those times were.”

He just stares for awhile before answering in a soft, wondering voice.

“At the banquet?”

I nod.

“When you danced so beautifully in front of me and then wrapped your arms around me and asked me to be your coach.”

“Uh-huh.”

“And?”

He takes a shaky little breath.

“When you saw me skate your program?”

“And I realized what you were capable of being, and that the way for you to become that…was for me to go and coach you, myself.”

“Wow…I never thought of it like that,” he admits, “but it makes sense when you say it like that.”

I smile and duck back under his chin again, so that it rests on top of my head.

“What does it tell you that five years ago, you left your home and moved to Detroit so that you could train with the goal of meeting me in the Grand Prix Finals, and that five years ago, I stopped dating?”

“Heh, uh, coincidence?” he laughs nervously.

“Seriously, Yuuri,” I say thoughtfully, “Do you think that when fate begins to get close to us, we actually sense it and start moving towards it?”

“I don’t know,” he confesses, “but I do know one thing.”

“Hmm?”

“This? Living with you and being about to marry you? This is better than anything I used to imagine.”

“Well, that’s just because we can’t see into the future, so we can’t see our fate very clearly,” I explain, “It only realizes its full beauty in our minds…when we reach it and it actually happens. The reality of this? It’s better than what I used to dream that love could be. Don’t you feel the same, Yuuri?”

He’s quiet for a moment, then he smiles so beautifully and meets me for an oh, so tender kiss that warms me from head to toe.

“Yeah, I do.”


	29. How Strong is my Love?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Victor and Yuuri face down Modya's unleashed wrath.

When morning arrives, we get down to the business of making sure that everything is set for my meeting with my brother. Maret and Sava are amazingly helpful at putting things in perspective for Yuuri and me, because first off, we don’t have any experience in dealing with madmen trying to kill us, and secondly, they have access to a lot more information than we do. The first thing they do is to check out the ownership of the address Servil gave me. Then, Sava goes to reconnoiter the place while Yuuri and I dress and eat breakfast. When he returns, the four of us sit down to discuss everything we know, and to make plans for the meeting with Servil.

“The check we ran on the house,” Maret says, “indicates that it’s a rental home in a nice area that was rented a few days ago by Servil Nikiforov and Lena Nikiforova. The rental was for a week and lasts for three more days after today.”

“I went and had a look at the property,” Sava adds, “and it’s set back slightly from the street. There are shade trees and physical features that close it off visually from the road. It isn’t a place that can easily be watched, because of that. We will actually have to enter the property to observe.”

“But on a good note,” Maret says, “the same features that give the property this privacy will enable us to move around without being seen.”

“As long,” Sava interjects, “as we are cautious of the surveillance cameras, which I took note of, so that we can avoid being picked up by them.”

“Did you see if my brother and his wife were there when you went there?” I ask.

“There was no one inside the house, that I could see,” Sava answers.

“But, if they were visiting that friend Servil mentioned, they could have been out to do that.”

“Maybe if they were having breakfast together,” Sava suggests, “It’s possible, given the presence of a new baby in the family, that they might be working with the baby’s sleep schedule.”

“We weren’t able to find any information on who they have seen since arriving,” Maret reports, “I ran a check on your brother’s finances, and there were credit records of meals out, sometimes for three and sometimes for two, indicating that when it was two people, the baby could have been with the friends, or it could have been Servil or Lena going out to eat with one of their friends. There were no payments indicating your brother paid for any meals for more than three people.”

“But,” Sava adds, “if the other family was hosting, they could be providing some meals, and also some meals are probably being prepared here too…although I found no record of purchases from nearby grocery stores, which we would expect to see.”

“So, what do you think?” Yuuri asks, “Do you think that this checks out? Is it safe for us to go there to meet Servil?”

“I don’t know if I would call it a safe location,” Maret answers, “We have a few concerns, mostly about how everything seems to check out in general, but Sava didn’t observe any specific signs of who had been in the house.”

“I looked in through the windows I could access without being picked up by the surveillance cameras, and I didn’t see things like a stroller, a crib or supplies for a baby, although I couldn’t observe all of the rooms from outside.”

“Our concerns stem, not so much from what Sava was able to see, but from what wasn’t immediately visible. The property, itself, checks out in general, but we feel we need to approach with some caution.”

“With that in mind, we have contacted our team members who are guarding Mr. Feltsman and Mirra Nikiforova,” Sava informs us, “We’ll be going over there before proceeding to the meeting residence.”

I nod in agreement, then steal a glance at Yuuri, whose eyes are blinking as he stifles a yawn. I meet Maret’s eyes and he gives me a very slight nod.

“We should go to the car,” I suggest, taking my fiancé’s arm as we stand and he sways a little, “Yuuri, are you feeling all right?”

I already know he’s not, and I’m the reason why. I am, after all, the one who laced his morning tea with knockout drops I got from Maret.

We leave the house and climb into the car. As we pull away from the curb, Yuuri yawns again and leans against my shoulder.

“I don’t know why I’m so drowsy,” he sighs, “I think I slept better than you did.”

“Don’t worry about it, _solnyshko_ ,” I tell him in a soothing voice, as my eyes meet Maret’s in the rearview mirror.

I pet his hair as his eyes blink sleepily, and he drops off, leaning against me. I wait until I’m sure he’s out before saying anything to the men in the front seat.

“He’s asleep,” I tell them, “How long did you say those drops last?”

“He’ll sleep through the meeting,” Maret tells me, “and Sava will not leave him alone for a moment.”

“Good,” I say, petting Yuuri’s hair and caressing his face gently, “I know he’ll be angry with me when he wakes up, but by then, the meeting will be over and he won’t have been at any risk. I don’t want there to be any chance of Yuuri being hurt.”

Maret drives us to Yakov’s house, where he and I climb out of the car and Sava gets out to move to the back seat to sit with Yuuri. We get to the door and ring the bell, but there is no answer. Maret frowns as I ring the doorbell again.

“They knew we were coming,” I say softly as Maret nods and places a hand on his weapon.

“Come with me, but stay behind me,” he tells me.

“Are Yuuri and Sava safe where they are?” I ask anxiously.

“They’ll be fine,” Maret assures me, “but I am worried about Mr. Feltsman and Ms. Nikiforova.”

He takes out his phone and sends a text message. We wait for a few minutes, but there is no reply. Maret looks more unhappy by the moment.

“Come on,” he says, taking my hand.

We move carefully around the side of the house, and he looks in through the sliding door in the backyard. My breath catches in dismay as we spot three collapsed people on the floor. Then a jolt grabs my insides.

“Where is my mother?” I whisper.

Maret says nothing, and I gather I didn’t really need to ask. The back door, we find, is ajar, so we slip inside and move closer. Maret draws his weapon and we move first to check that the people, who turn out to be Yakov and the two bodyguards, are still breathing. Maret sweeps the house and finds no one else there. But, checking the unconscious men more closely, I find a note stuffed into Yakov’s hand.

“This is a warning,” the note says, “Come alone.”

“He’s taken my mother,” I say numbly, “but…if he has her, then why does he want me to still come?”

My heart beats harder and I feel a little weak as Maret gives me the cold, hard facts.

“You are being set up to die, Victor.”

“But, he said that he was going to kill me if she _didn’t_ come to him.”

“And it looks like she didn’t go willingly,” Maret concludes, “meaning that you can’t trust those words at all. The fact that he’s using her to lure you tells me that you have been his goal from the start.”

“That makes sense,” I agree, “He’s never been able to stomach even the suspicion that I was fathered by Yakov.”

Maret takes his phone out again and texts Sava to let him know what’s going on, then we work on waking Yakov and two bodyguards. They move sluggishly and are starting to wake up, but Maret keeps looking at his phone, and even before they are awake, he motions for me to go with him outside.

“What’s wrong?” I ask nervously.

“Stay close to me,” he says sternly.

As we step out the front door, I freeze and stare in dismay at Sava’s collapsed body that lies on the sidewalk and the fact that Yuuri and the car are both gone.

“Damn it!” Maret snaps, rushing forward to help his unconscious partner.

I suffer a moment of indecision, then while his back is turned, I slip back into the house and take Yakov’s car keys. The garage is just far enough away that I have time to slip into the car and get out of the driveway before Maret can stop me.

“VICTOR!” he shouts as I pass him.

I head immediately for the house where I am to meet Servil. I know now that the meeting is a trap, and I know my brother is part of it. That is a shock, and part of me doesn’t want to believe it.

_But there is nothing else I can do. Whoever took Yuuri is probably going there. That house is where Modya will be waiting._

_I guess we will see if I really learned anything from the self defense things Yuuri and I were taught. Although, it’s unlikely to be helpful if Modya has hired thugs on his side. I wonder if he hurt Servil or just threatened him to make him lure me like that. I know the kind of person my brother is. If he is helping to lure me there, he’s not doing it because he agrees with Modya. He’s being manipulated…and by someone who just kidnapped my Yuuri to trap me into coming to the house. That means that he’s not above abducting or threatening Servil. My brother has to be in almost as much trouble as me…the difference being that Modya just wants to control him. Modya wants to kill me. Servil is caught between us._

_I wonder what it might take to get him to help me stop Modya. It depends on if Modya has just threatened Lena and the baby, or if he has also had them abducted. He seems to have put the proceeds of the house to some use, buying thugs to do his dirty work for him._

_That makes me wonder if he plans for his thugs to kill me…or if he might want to do that with his own hands._

_I think it’s the latter. There is so much venom in what he’s done already, and the fact that, even though he has Mother, he also took Yuuri. I only hope and pray that he doesn’t hurt Yuuri. I think he’ll keep Yuuri alive so he can taunt me as he carries out his plans, but what will he do after? Will it be enough if he kills me, or will he kill Yuuri just for being my lover?_

I still have a million questions as I pull to the curb several blocks from the house. I pause for a moment to search the glove box, because I know that since my mother came to live with him, Yakov’s had a gun hidden there. It doesn’t take long to find. I know to make sure the safety is on, and I conceal it carefully as I set out for the house. I’m no detective or even a sneaky person, but I know not to walk up to the front door. Instead, I call up a screenshot of the neighborhood and I look for alleys or properties I can use to approach from another direction.

_God, just don’t let me be caught, recognized or just shot while invading someone’s property!_

I’m lucky in that I’m able to pass through several yards and use an alley to get into the pretty, but overgrown backyard of the house. I remember that there are cameras. I don’t dream I’ll be as good at avoiding them as Sava was…but then, Sava just got knocked out by people being paid by Modya, so who knows, right?

I move cautiously, squinting at the sides of the house. Luckily for me, the cameras are pretty big, so it’s not hard to see them. What is hard is figuring out exactly how to get to a window or door without being seen. Of course, if Modya thinks I’m coming like a sheep to the front door, he might not be watching the camera feed. With some effort, I find a little bathroom window that is frosted, and it’s also partially concealed by brush. I work my way there and try to get it opened. At first, I think that it’s closed from the inside so that I won’t be able to do that, but then I realize that whoever opened it last didn’t close it all of the way. Smiling, I work it very slowly open and climb through. It’s lucky that I’m as slim as I am. It’s a small window, so anyone much bigger than me wouldn’t be able to get through it. I reach the inside and drop silently to the floor. I hear voices floating in from other places in the house. I step to the bathroom door, which is open, and I angle myself to look out, into the hallway, without being seen. There’s someone standing at one end of the hallway, his back to me and his eyes looking out through a window, into the backyard. The other direction down the hallway leads to the common rooms, and that’s where the voices are coming from.

“Did you have any trouble?” Modya asks.

“No. They obviously weren’t expecting us to show up there, and we outnumbered their security.”

“Good.”

“Modya,” my mother’s voice says, sounding amazingly calm for the situation she’s in, “I’m here. There’s no reason for this. Please, when Yuuri wakes, let him go.”

“You be quiet and keep him quiet too!” Modya snaps.

_So, they are here. I wonder where Servil is._

I get my answer when I hear him speak a moment later.

“I don’t like this,” he says anxiously, “You said that you just wanted to convince Mom to come back to you. You didn’t say anything about kidnapping anyone!”

I hear sounds of some kind of scuffle, then Modya’s angry voice.

“Just focus on what’s important,” he hisses, “He’ll come here, and when he does, you will bring him in here.”

“If the guys you hired grabbed Yuuri Katsuki, then you want more than to get mother back. What are you planning? Are you going to hurt Vitya? I won’t let you!”

I hear the thud of a body crashing into the kitchen wall and my brother grunts in pain.

“Ugh!”

“Servil!” mother cries, “Modya, stop this!”

“You’ll do what I tell you,” Modya scolds my brother, “or I’ll have to remind you that Vitya isn’t the only one with someone vulnerable to protect. All I have to do is send one of the men I’ve paid to…”

“Stop it!” Servil pants, “Stop threatening women and children! You know, Vitya was right when we were children. You are a goddamned monster!”

I hear another impact and a heavy thud, then the sound of a body collapsing.

“Idiot!” Modya says furiously, “Maybe I should just kill you along with him, for all of the loyalty you’re showing me.”

I hear the click of a weapon, and I can’t hold back moving anymore. I pull out the gun I got from the car and make sure the man in the hallway is still turned away, then I run silently across the hallway and enter the kitchen. My hands are shaking, but I slip the safety off and approach Modya from behind as he faces Servil. Mother’s breath catches softly, but she’s careful not to say anything. Servil’s eyes widen. The gun clicks as I ready it to fire, and Modya freezes.

Then, just at the wrong moment, Yuuri starts to stir.

“V-victor!” he groans, blinking and trying to make sense of what’s happening in front of him.

Mother quickly soothes him as he struggles with the bonds that have been placed on his wrists. I’m only distracted for a moment, but it’s enough that Modya manages to turn and knock the weapon out of my hand. At the same time, he brings his weapon around to aim it at me. I don’t even think, but wrap one hand around the barrel of the weapon, pushing it to the side as he swears and calls to his thugs.

_This is so not going the way I’d hoped. God, just let all of us get out of this alive!_

Modya charges at me suddenly and crashes into me, bringing both of us to the floor as two big men run into the room. I hold the barrel of the gun in a death grip, recalling that this type of gun won’t fire as long as I’m holding it like that. Unfortunately for me, one of Modya’s thugs grabs me and yanks me away, dragging me to my feet as Modya gets up and heads for me, wearing an infuriated expression. It’s like my mind slows down to a crawl, and as he drives a fist into my bruised ribs, making me scream in agony and drop to my knees, I recall suddenly how Servil hated to see me hurting. I manage a quick glance at his face as he stands on shaky legs behind Modya, watching as the monster emerges, and he strikes me hard across the face.

“Victor!” Yuuri cries, struggling harder as Mother works to hold him still.

“It’s fine!” I pant, “S-stay back, Yuuri. Don’t get involved.”

As I say the words, there is a strange moment where my eyes meet my brother’s, and we both remember him fighting off school bullies and telling me those same words. I see then the understanding that blossoms in his eyes, that he understands I protect Yuuri the way he protected me. And while Modya hits me again, Servil edges towards Yuuri, trying to avoid the attention of the one thug that’s holding me on my knees and the one who is watching from the kitchen entry.

“Tie him to the table.”

_What?_

_Why?_

_What is he going to do now?_

_And how? How will we get out of this?_

I draw the attention away from Yuuri and Servil by throwing my weight against the guy holding me in a maneuver our bodyguards showed me. It only distracts them for a few moments when he’s thrown off balance, and I pay for it when the second thug hits me twice in the stomach, completely knocking the wind out of me, but it gives Servil a chance to kneel at Yuuri’s side and work at his bonds while the two bigger men are tying me down and Modya is watching.

My head spins and I can’t get a good breath, so I’m unable to even ask what that bastard is thinking, at this point. But Modya seems almost jovial, now that I’ve been controlled. He stands over me, glaring down at me with the deadly eyes of the monster I remember. I’m too out of breath to feel any fear. I can only suck in and release gasping breaths as he laughs and moves closer.

“You wonder why I didn’t stop at taking Mirra back?” he asks sarcastically, “I suppose I can be generous and give you an answer.”

_Please, Servil, free Yuuri and get him and Mom out of here! You can’t help me this time!_

Modya’s fingers curl around my face and squeeze painfully, but I’m still so out of breath, I can’t make a sound.

“This,” he hisses, “I had to look at this damned face day after day, week after week, month after month, year after goddamned year! I knew when Mirra came home the day after we quarreled and I left her on the side of that road…that she’d been with another man. It’s what weak, needy bitches like her do when they’re left helpless. They find another man to take from.”

“You lying bastard!” I howl, finding my voice again, “She was a beautiful dancer. She never needed you…n-not _ever_! She gave you her love and you treated her like she was nothing! You were a coward, hurting her just because you were stronger. And you did the same thing to me, because I was small and I _wasn’t yours_!”

“No,” he says, his voice going chillingly calm, “you weren’t mine, and that’s bothered me for a long time. But…I’m going to fix that now.”

I look into his crazed eyes and I have no idea what wickedness he’s thinking of doing to me.

“What are you going to do?”

His smile is filled with what feels like the fingers of the dead touching my skin all over. He moves in beside me and takes out from within his clothing, something that looks like the IV needle and tubing that they used in the hospital when I was there before.

“You’re filled with the blood of another man,” he says in that same dead calm voice, “I intend to bleed that out of you and fill you with mine.”

“MODYA, NO!” my mother screams.

I can see out of the corner of my eye that Servil has freed Yuuri’s hands, but there are only two of them against Modya and two large, armed men.

My mind can’t fully comprehend what he just said, or if I do comprehend the words, I can’t believe them.

_He’s insane!_

But insane or not, he takes hold of one of my bound arms and pulls out a scalpel. I barely feel the cut, but the sight of blood flowing out of the wound ignites a rush of adrenaline and I fight the ropes holding me down. Modya doesn’t even flinch as the needle pierces his arm, and his blood begins to leak into the tubing. He leans over me, preparing to run the other end into the gash he opened up in my arm.

But while he’s still struggling with me, there is a huge crashing sound as someone breaks the front door down and our four bodyguards run into the room, followed by Yakov. Yuuri and Servil use the distraction to ram into the gun toting men from behind, knocking them to the ground. At the same time, Mother dashes towards me and leaps onto Modya’s back, wrapping her legs around him and scratching at his face. One of our bodyguards reaches me and slices through the bonds on my wrists, but he’s distracted as Modya throws my mother off of his back and he heads towards her with mayhem in his eyes. Maret and Sava help Yuuri and Servil to bring down the two thugs. Another of our bodyguards frees my legs and drags me to my feet, quickly wrapping a kitchen towel around the heavily bleeding wound on my arm.

Modya screams in fury and closes in on my mother, as she tries to scramble away from him.

“Mother!” Servil cries, moving to keep Modya away from her.

Yuuri, too, places himself in the way.

Then, Modya reaches into his clothes and pulls out another gun. Yuuri and Servil freeze as he aims in their direction.

“Yuuri!” I gasp, trying to move, but Maret grabs me around the waist and holds me in place.

There is an odd, frozen moment, where I feel that something horrible is about to happen, then a shot echoes in the room. But at the same moment, a dark clothed body throws itself between Modya and the two he’s aiming to kill.

“Sava!” Yuuri sobs, dropping down next to the collapsed man as it takes Yakov and two of our bodyguards to bring Modya to the floor.

As they do, Modya looks down and sees his blood pouring out of a bullet hole that Sava made in his chest. He falls on his face on the floor as Mother crawls to Yakov and I drag myself to where Servil and Yuuri sit at Sava’s side. Yuuri’s face is ghostly white and spattered with his bodyguard’s blood. Maret quickly calls for help, then bends over Sava, working swiftly to apply pressure to a wound in his shoulder.

“Yuuri,” I manage, putting my not bleeding arm around him and resting my head on his shoulder, “are you hurt?”

“N-no,” he says shakily, “S-sava jumped in front of me. Like his own life didn’t matter, he…”

“Shh, _solnyshko_ ,” I soothe him, “You’re okay now.”

“Your arm…” he whispers, staring at the blood soaked bandage.

“It’ll be fine.”

“But…”

“It’s okay,” I assure him, holding him tightly, “It’s over, Yuuri. Everything will be all right.”

We hold each other and don’t let go as sirens rise up in the distance, growing louder and louder as help approaches.

As I wait, I stare at Modya’s dead body, but I still wonder if the monster is really gone.


	30. Implosion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As the dust settles, Victor realizes that a decision he made is going to have far reaching consequences.

I wish that having survived Modya Nikiforov’s diabolical plan meant that Yuuri and I had earned the happily ever after that heroes in the movies usually get. You know, where the characters seem to shake off any injuries, and the hero and heroine get married and ride off into the sunset. Yes, at twenty-eight years old, I know that life isn’t like the movies. When people hate, when people lie, when they hurt someone, whether they meant to or not, there is fallout. I only wish that the fallout for us was simply healing from our wounds and burying the dead criminal I used to call _Papa_ , but there is something I did, a decision I made in the midst of everything that ends up coming back to haunt me in a very big way.

Even before we get to what I did that was wrong, Yuuri and I were both traumatized. Our lives were endangered and we witnessed someone being killed. It doesn’t matter that this was Modya, that he was a criminal and a monster. He was a human being, whose life ended violently in front of our eyes. Whether or not he deserved it doesn’t change the mental and emotional effect of seeing it all happen so starkly. Add to that, now, seeing Sava, someone Yuuri and I have grown close to, throw himself in front of one of us and injure himself to protect us deals another heavy blow to mind and emotion. We start to feel it as the dust settles and we start picking up the pieces.

Yuuri remains kneeling at Sava’s side, his eyes intense as medics care for his shoulder wound. My mother sits with him, holding his hand and talking to him, while Yakov remains close to her. Maret sits with me as a medic cleans the gash in my arm and stitches the wound, while I look away and try not to be sick. I hate needles already and the very idea of being sewn up like a torn shirt is not something I handle well. My brother comes to me and sits on my other side, and he curls an arm around me comfortingly.

“I don’t know if I want to talk to you right now,” I scold him, “I know Modya was twisting your arm or you would never have done a damned thing for him, but…”

“But you’re angry with me, bratishka,” he says quietly, “I’d be angry at me too. But, you at least understand. I thought it was just that he was angry about Mother leaving him and he wanted her back. I didn’t realize he had such awful plans for you. I hope you know, I wouldn’t ever let something like that happen.”

“I know,” I answer in a sulky voice, “but you are still a shit for working with him.”

“I am,” he agrees, “but this shit is glad you’re at least still talking to him. I would understand if you didn’t want to anymore. We’ve barely been in touch since you left us when we were kids.”

“I know,” I tell him, “It’s complicated. I blocked out what happened that last day, and a lot of other things.”

“Mother explained that to me a while back. She told Irishka and me that if you were distant with us, it was because you were beaten so badly that you shut down emotionally and blocked out the painful things. So, we knew not to push you. We let you speak to us when you wanted to. But we were always sad that Papa’s cruelty broke our family. I know what’s happened is horrible, and I did something that might make you hate me…”

“I don’t hate you.”

“I know,” he says, touching my face, “You’re too good to be my bratishka. I always knew that. There’s not a bit of monster in you, and I’m glad. Vitya, if you don’t hate me, I hope you will want to be an uncle to my new daughter.”

I can’t hold back a little smile.

“I don’t even know her name.”

Servil’s smile becomes as warm and bright as it ever was when we were small children.

“It’s Victoria. We named her after you.”

He kisses me on the top of my head and goes back to sit with Mother and Yakov, while the medics finish with Sava and take him to an ambulance. Yuuri remains on the floor, still splashed with blood and ominously quiet. I help him to his feet and put my good arm around him.

“Let’s go and get you cleaned up.”

He doesn’t answer, and I can feel the heavy tension in his body. He doesn’t say a word as we go to the bathroom and I clean him up. He just looks silently in front of him and follows my directions while I work. When we’re finished, we’re both cleared medically for release, then questioned by the police about everything that happened. It comes up in the questioning that Yuuri was incapacitated by sedative drops, and I confess that I was responsible. I’m informed by the police that it is a crime and admitting to it will probably have consequences. They assure me the consequences will probably be minor, but what I see in Yuuri’s eyes when I admit to it is anything but minor.

He's hurt that I would do something like that.

And he’s angry.

He remains at my side, but he’s silent as we leave to go home. And when we arrive, he goes to the guest bathroom to shower, and he locks the door. I clean up in the master bathroom, then dress and go to look for him. I find him sitting at the kitchen table with Maret standing near him. As I enter the room, Maret touches my arm and gives me a smile like he’s wishing me luck, then he leaves us alone. For a moment, I can’t move. I just look at Yuuri, who’s sipping at a cup of tea and looking down at the table. I want to sit next to him, at least within range of touching him, but there’s a feeling coming off of him that it would be too much, so I sit down across the table from him and I wait until he looks up and meets my eyes.

“Are you sure you shouldn’t be in the hospital?” he says finally, “You were bleeding a lot before.”

“I was given fluids and oxygen before we left to come back here,” I assure him, “I’ll be fine. Don’t worry about that.”

“Okay,” he says quietly, “then we should probably talk.”

It’s then I see the suitcase that’s next to him.

“Yuuri, what is this?”

He has to set the tea down because his hands are starting to shake.

“I’m going back to Japan to train for worlds,” he tells me, matter-of-factly.

“But why? I’m coaching you and I’m here in Saint Petersburg. You said that it was fine to train here with me. I thought you wanted us to train together. We’ve been apart through nationals and the European and Four Continents competitions already.”

“I’m comfortable training alone,” he insists, “and I need to leave Russia for a little while.”

“You’re not just leaving _Russia_ ,” I answer, my teeth clenching, “You’re leaving _me_. If you’re going to leave, then at least be honest about it, Yuuri.”

The intense hurt and anger I saw earlier return to his eyes and his hands clench and quiver as he continues.

“Was it honest of you to drug my tea and knock me out?” he asks bitterly, tears rising in his eyes.

“Yuuri, I was just…”

“Protecting me?” he spits back at me, “Did it even occur to you that if you hadn’t done that, Sava and I would have been in Yakov’s house with you, and I wouldn’t have been taken by Modya’s thugs? Maret and Sava told us how many times that we are safest if we stick together! And what you did was not sticking together.”

“I know,” I say penitently.

“It was stupid!”

“Yes, it was.”

“And I can tell you’re not even sorry,” he accuses me, “because you really think that something like that is _protecting_ me.”

“I was protecting you, because I love you,” I argue.

“You were trying to take me out of the equation because you thought I was weak!” he shouts.

“I don’t think you’re weak. You know that!”

“You do think that, or you wouldn’t have done what you did instead of talking to me and sticking together. Victor, the reason that we’ve been able to do all we have as skater and coach, as lovers? It’s because you _never_ treated me like I was weak. You saw my strengths and where I needed to grow, and we worked together, _like equals_. I know it was an extreme situation and you meant well, but there’s no denying what led you to make that decision. And after everything, I just think I need to go home and…”

“Your home is here now,” I remind him, “Your home is with me. You said that when you came to Saint Petersburg to live with me!”

“Yeah? Well, maybe I was still too caught up in everything that was happening, and I didn’t think it through.”

“That’s not true!” I shout at him, “Don’t say things like that, Yuuri. You don’t think that us being together is a mistake. After everything, tell me you don’t think that!”

“Augh!” he groans covering his face for a moment, “I don’t know what I think! That’s the problem. You know, you’re like a little kid sometimes, Victor. You do things without thinking, and it ends up blowing up in our faces.”

“You knew how I was when you decided to come here. That’s not why you’re leaving!”

“Okay fine!” he yells, “I just feel like I can’t trust you. I’ve never felt that way, not the whole time I’ve known you. And you and I both need to be training for worlds.”

“We can train together here!”

“That’s the thing. I can’t.”

“Why not, Yuuri?” I ask, “Your coach is here. My coach is here. It makes the most sense.”

“No, it doesn’t.”

“I don’t understand. Then, what does? You going it alone in Japan?”

“I’ve been training a lot without you lately, and I’m doing fine,” he argues, “Besides, physically, you are a mess. You’re coming back from injury and that’s going to be a lot for you to handle.”

“I’ll handle it better if my fiancé doesn’t _leave_ me!” I snap at him, “I know that the fact that we can’t legally be married makes it easier for you to walk out, but I thought that if we had problems that you’d have the courage to stay and work them out with me!”

_Damn, that was really the wrong thing to say to him!_

“ _You_ want to talk to _me_ about courage?” he yells, “Was it courage that made you knock me out instead of telling me you were afraid for me? Was it so bad that I wanted to be with you through everything?”

“I told you. I know I made a bad mistake. No one is perfect, Yuuri, but you don’t walk out on someone because they make an honest mistake!”

“I think that kind of depends on the mistake. And I’m not walking out.”

“If you weren’t, you wouldn’t have that suitcase packed.”

He puts his hands over his face for a moment, and takes a steadying breath.

“I need to go back to Japan and I’ll train for worlds on my own there. I’m not saying it’s over. I just need a break until worlds.”

“Until worlds,” I repeat, shaking my head, “and then what?”

He climbs to his feet and takes hold of the handle on his suitcase.

“Then, we’ll talk about what happens next,” he says more quietly, “Right now, we should each focus on ourselves. Your body needs to heal, and you know that limits the time you’ll have to train. I would be a distraction that you don’t need.”

“Yuuri, that’s not true.”

“It is, and you know it,” he insists, “Anyway, you didn’t ask me what I thought of you knocking me out, and I’m not asking you what you think of me going back to Japan to think about things. I’d say we’re even.”

He starts to walk past me, but I lay a hand over his on the handle of the suitcase.

“Please, Yuuri, just stay and we can work this out together. Whatever you want me to do…relationship counseling, you sleeping in the guest room while you’re angry at me, anything but walking out that door. If you take those steps, you’re not coming back.”

“I just told you I’m just…”

“Do you think after watching over one hundred lovers walk out on me, I don’t know exactly what this is? You want me to make this easier for you, but I’m not going to. I made a terrible mistake, and I know just how wrong it could have gone. You leaving to punish me is…”

“You really think I’m just trying to punish you?” he asks, shaking his head, “I’m not going because I want to hurt you. I’m going because if I stay, I’m not going to be able to resist you long enough to figure out my own feelings. Being near you is like being too close to the sun sometimes. I’m so distracted by your brightness, I can’t think…and I need to think. That’s why I’m going.”

“Yuuri, if space is what you need, I can go and stay with Yakov. You can stay here with Maccachin. We’ll only see each other for training.”

“Victor, no,” he says, taking a step, but he has to stop because I tighten my hand on his.

“Then, you tell me how we can do this without you leaving. We’re not children, Yuuri.”

“At least one of us isn’t,” he huffs.

“I’m not the one running away from my problems. I’ve admitted what I did was wrong, and I am trying to give you what you need, but you should remember that when you put this ring on my finger, _you and I_ became _us_.”

“I’m not the one guilty of forgetting that.”

“Maybe you weren’t, but you are now. You said that I should have talked to you, that we should have stuck together, but now you’re the one turning your back on me. You told me that I should have had more faith in you, that I should trust your strength, not see weakness. I’m trying to do that.”

I can feel everything inside me break apart as he turns back and kisses me gently on the mouth.

“Then, if you believe in us? If you think I’m strong and that I’ll come back? Let go. Trust me.”

I feel my hand let go even though I don’t intend for it to happen. Maybe it’s that somewhere deep down, I know I can trust him to come back. I don’t know why, when every other lover who has left me has never come back. But I let go and step back, and I manage not to say a word or cry as he walks out the door.

I’m pretty sure I should feel something as the door closes. It echoes in my head, and I must stand there for a long time, because eventually, I feel Maret touch my unhurt arm.

“Victor?”

I manage a stabbing breath and nod to show I’m listening.

“Would you like me to call someone? Stefan? Yakov or Mirra?” he asks.

“No,” I answer, swallowing hard, “don’t call anyone.”

“But…”

“I know that the danger has passed,” I interrupt, “but if you have no objection, I’d like you to stay on as my bodyguard. I probably should have had one a long time ago.”

Maret gives me a gentle smile and nods.

“Of course.”

“It might be boring now,” I warn him, “I don’t often have maniacs trying to kill me. It’ll mostly be just being there when I make public appearances or when I travel.”

“That’s fine. I’ll be here for you.”

I take a stinging breath and give him a stiff smile.

“What does it say that I can’t get anyone to put up with me unless I pay them?”

Maret hugs me and touches his forehead to mine in a brotherly gesture.

“I wouldn’t stay just for money,” he chuckles, “Haven’t you noticed? People are drawn to you. Even the people who work for you, the people who counsel you, the people you just meet on the street…they are all drawn to you.”

“It’s just a reputation,” I sigh, “When you get close enough, you see the flaws all over the place. Yuuri did. That’s why he left.”

Maret gives me a skeptical look.

“That’s not why he left,” he says firmly, “He’s upset because you did something that offended him. He’s angry, but he even said that it’s not over for you.”

“What do you think I should do?” I ask, “I didn’t listen to you when you said that giving him those drops was a bad idea, but I’m listening to you now.”

“And you think I can tell the hottest bachelor in the world how to mend things with a lover?” he asks, looking amused.

I give a little shrug.

“Who else is here? Anyway, we’ve seen what a mess happens when I decide anything, so tell me what you would do.”

That gets me an amused smile from him.

“What I would do?” he repeats, thinking carefully, “What I would do is not to follow him, but to send him something every day to let him know exactly what I am thinking.”

I think for a moment, then my breath catches and I nod.

“What flower symbolizes that I’m sorry?”

“Purple Hyacinth. It means I’m sorry, please forgive me and sorrow.”

“And red roses for love,” I add.

“Good,” he says approvingly, “and what about this? Clover on his bed in the mornings?”

“The three leaves mean faith, hope and love,” I recall, “Maret, you are a genius. If this works, then I will…”

“You don’t have to do anything. Just be happier. Yuuri’s right that you’re a mess when you’re unhappy.”

“Thank you!” I say, hugging him and kissing him on each cheek.

I spend the next several hours on the phone with Mari, first explaining the explosive news stories about my family, then working out with her what to do.

“You mean, you’re not coming yourself to try to convince him?” she asks.

“He doesn’t want me to come,” I explain, “He made me promise to let him go and not try to stop him. But, he didn’t make me promise not to show him my thoughts, so here’s what I want you to do.”

I explain to her each part…clover on his bed every morning and an arrangement of purple hyacinth and red roses each night, with a card that has written on it a memory of something we’ve said or done together. It takes awhile, and Mari is a great help at making suggestions. When we’re done, she sighs and I know she’s wearing a sympathetic look, even though I can’t see it.

“You know, it’s strange to see the world’s hottest bachelor, someone who could have anyone just by looking at them the right way, pining after my goofy, stupid, really stubborn, but cute brother,” she comments.

“I don’t just want anyone. There is only one person I love.”

“Yeah. I hope you don’t mind if while I’m letting you go on and on with this wooing him back, I’m also telling him how dumb he’s being.”

“He isn’t being dumb,” I answer, letting my regret wash over into my voice, “I made a stupid mistake and I hurt him. He only needs time. I’m just making sure that he doesn’t forget me.”

“Huh,” Mari laughs, “like anyone _could_ forget you. You’re as dumb as he is if you really think that.”

I feel a little better as I hang up the phone, but there’s still something more I need to do. I run a quick search, looking for a rental property out of the city, one with a private ice rink. Believe it or not, I’m not the only rich, spurned figure skater looking for an escape. I find one and rent it, then I text my mother, asking her to continue to care for Maccachin. I turn my phone off after that and pack my own bag.

By nightfall, Maret and I are secluded in the mountains, in a lovely cottage with a private rink for my practice sessions. I put my phone in Maret’s hands and tell him not to let anyone know I’m here and not to answer unless it’s an emergency.

I’d like to say that I don’t drown my sorrows, but I do have an agreement with Maret to stop me before I get really drunk.

_For now, it’s whatever it takes to get into shape for worlds. Yuuri will expect me to be ready to compete with him. If I want to win him back, I’ll need to remind him of the man who has been his inspiration._

_Let’s see what Yuuri Katsuki thinks when he sees what his love motivates me to do!_


	31. Shadows of Me, Shades of Us

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Victor struggles to recover physically, while Yuuri struggles with his emotions over everything that has happened.

I wake early on the first morning at my mountain hideaway, and I begin by taking stock of the body I have to work with. I find I’ve gone from being a black and blue mess, to more of a black, blue, purple and green mess of ugly bruises now. The black is where Modya and his thugs beat up on me. The rest is from the fall I took during the European Championships. I have a black eye from when Modya hit me in the face…not pretty. I have a stitched gash on my lower right arm, and a large healing cut on the upper arm. My right shoulder and hip still ache a lot, to the point where it’s clear that any real practice will have to wait until I’m more healed.

I take my time and stretch slowly and carefully before putting on my skates and stepping onto the ice. The rink is enclosed because it snows frequently here, and I’ve left off most of the lights, so it’s kind of dark. I leave the music off and as I begin to skate, I just enjoy the sound of my blades on the ice. When I close my eyes, I can go back in time and feel the same peace that skating like this has always given me. I forget the years that have passed and the weight of loneliness and just feel that connection between my body and the smooth, cold ice. Life is complicated, relationships are complicated, but this joining of movement and pure emotion is simple, truthful, pure.

_Why are there tears in my eyes?_

_Skating has always soothed me._

_Why does it feel different now?_

_When did Yuuri become such a part of me that I can’t separate my mind from him, even here, where I’ve always been able to find comfort? I opened myself up so readily to him. I didn’t even think I needed to be cautious. What was I thinking, when every other romantic relationship I’ve had, has ended badly? Did I really think that this time would be different?_

_Is it different?_

It’s a long time before I settle and stop thinking about that and move on to actual planned practice.

I spend about an hour practicing basics, working at my sore places to loosen the stiff joints, then I take a break and head back into the cottage to have breakfast with Maret, who has designated himself also my personal chef, since he’s short on rabid fans to disperse or madmen to keep away from me.

“This is amazing!” I sigh, plowing my way through the hearty meal.

I’m stuffed and feeling sluggish after, so we take a walk, and talk about the fact that my phone has been buzzing furiously ever since we arrived here. I take a peek and give a nervous giggle at the number of angry texts Yakov has sent me. The gist of them seems to be “ ** _GET YOUR ASS BACK TO SAINT PETERSBURG, YOU LAZY BRAT! YOU SHOULDN’T BE TAKING VACATIONS WITH WORLDS ONLY WEEKS AWAY!”_**

I flinch a little at seeing a text from Yuuri, but it’s just to tell me he reached Japan safely, and thanks for the flowers and memory that were waiting in his room.

_He could at least sound a little happier, but that’s Yuuri. Sometimes he really stinks at responding to people._

It stings a bit, so I go on to the million texts from about every friend I have, my mother, my brother and my sister. I text Mother to let her know I’m alive and training privately. I don’t answer anyone else.

I also ignore the text messages from Stefan. Not to be mean, of course. He’s been very good to me, but I am far from ready to talk to him, and besides, I’m a little dependent on some liquor to help numb my physical and mental aches from training. I can’t deal with all of this and sobriety too. Sobriety will have to wait.

I want everything to disappear except for my skates and the ice I skate on.

I return to the ice after we walk, and this time, I just skate freely, working the parts of me that are healthy, and gently touching on the healing parts. I do absolutely no jumps or complicated moves, but after my free skating, I do work on my step sequences from both of my programs. Sometimes people used to say that my step sequences looked a little too polished and not emotive enough. While being technically correct, they needed something. But since spending time with Yuuri in Hasetsu, that has changed, and my step sequences have evolved.

By the time I quit for the day, I’m hurting so bad that I regret not bringing the painkillers that were prescribed for me after my injury at the European Championships. But, I have Maret, who gives great massages (Is there anything he doesn’t do well?) and also I have a store of liquor, some of which is very good in warmed cocoa, so I can forget how damned much I hurt.

The ache in my heart is a little more complicated.

I really miss Yuuri.

Last night, we were talking about how it was fate we were together, and today, we are a million miles apart, even if we weren’t in different countries. As I work at trying to fall asleep, I call up bits of video of him that I have on my phone, so that I can look at him and hear his voice, like he’s right here. It’s a mistake, because then I start wanting to smell his scent and to touch him. I haven’t yet cried about him leaving, and I’m not quite there. I’m distracting myself, but it will come when it fully sets in that he’s gone…at least for now, anyway.

I’m starting to wish that I hadn’t made Maret my designated drink stopper. I could just sink into a damned bottle and not think at all until he came back. I wouldn’t even mind him yelling at me and telling me I’m a disgrace.

 _God, I am pathetic_.

_Yuuri isn’t like this. He barely seemed to show any emotion in his text about the flowers and memory card. I don’t know why I bother. He’s so closed off sometimes, I wonder if he misses me at all when we’re apart. Why does it seem like it’s so easy for him? I don’t know, maybe he’s hurting too, but not wanting me to know._

_But what does it matter?_

_I can’t comfort him and I can’t do shit for myself right now._

I start to turn off my phone, but I touch a wrong button, and all of a sudden, I hear an audio recording I took of Yuuri singing that sad Japanese love song. It really is horrible timing, because even though I wasn’t crying before, I get weepy now. I don’t want to bother poor Maret and ask him to also be my shrink, although he’d probably be good at that too. There’s no fucking way I’m calling Stefan. So, I turn off the recording, grab a few tissues to wipe my eyes and nose, and I lie down and try to fall asleep. I do eventually drop off, but it’s not much later that a nightmare wakes me. I must have made some sound as I woke, because Maret appears in the doorway to my room.

“Is everything all right?” he asks.

_I wonder if I could just hire him to be my husband. He’s good at everything else. Maybe he could…but who am I fucking kidding? No one ever stays with me. I’m way too good at running people off. Lovers especially._

“I’m all right. It was just a nightmare.”

“Hmm,” he says, coming to sit down on the edge of the bed, “Was it about what happened yesterday?”

_Damn, it’s like two am and I’ve gotten barely any sleep._

“It was,” I affirm, “but that’s not surprising, right?”

“I was having trouble sleeping, myself.”

“Well, facing down people trying to kill you will do that to you,” I sigh, “I’m sorry I dragged you into that…and…I’m really sorry that I didn’t listen to you about the knockout drops…oh, and that I drove off and left you. You are here protecting me, and I disrespected that by not listening to you, because I knew Yuuri was in trouble and I panicked.”

“It’s fine.”

_He has very kind blue eyes and he looks too gentle to be a bodyguard._

“Really, it’s not. I could have gotten you killed, and maybe if I hadn’t done those things, Sava wouldn’t be lying in a hospital bed with a bullet wound right now.”

“It’s probably better not to think about it,” Maret suggests, “You made some mistakes, but we are all alive, and Sava won’t be in the hospital for long. Try to get some sleep.”

I manage to drop off again, and fortunately, I don’t have any more nightmares. They ease off over the next few days, and I start to sleep better again. I would still be sleeping better if Yuuri was here, but at least it’s enough so that I can concentrate on my skating.

Every day, I put more pressure on my healing areas to rebuild my strength. My shoulder pretty much stops aching after a few days, and the bruises begin to fade. The only part that is more bothersome is my hip. I’m able to start small hops and jumps, but the doubles, triples and quad jumps will have to be put off a bit longer. I start running through my programs with just small jumps, and while I’m doing that, I’m hit with a little inspiration.

_I wonder if I could add a fifth quad to my free skate. I’ve got better stamina now, and once my hip is better, I should be able to pull it off._

It’s something that would certainly surprise everyone, and it could be the edge I need to beat Yurio, Yuuri and J.J.

_Hmm, it’s risky, though…_

I think about it more as I sit down to dinner with Maret, who knows to hand over my cell, so I can see if there is anything important to read. I feel a twinge when I see that Yuuri has texted me, but I look through the rest of the messages first.

_So, it seems that everyone is wondering where Victor Nikiforov has disappeared to._

I scan the sports news, and sure enough, there are several articles contemplating where I might be. Two speculate that I’ve gone into seclusion because of my father’s sudden, violent death, and one speculates that since Yuuri has been spotted in Japan and I’m nowhere to be found, there may be trouble in our relationship. I go back to the texts and begin to read Yuuri’s.

XXX

_Victor, you know, you don’t have to keep doing this with the flowers and memories. I mean, it’s really sweet of you, but you shouldn’t be going to such trouble. And the clover on my bed is too much, okay?_

_XXX_

_Seriously, Victor. Please stop. It makes me feel horrible because I know you’re unhappy._

_XXX_

_Victor, what did you tell Mari? She’s really getting all over me about how I don’t deserve you and I’m going to lose you if I keep being so stupid. I’m not trying to be stupid. I’m just trying to clear my head and think…and Mari…and all of these flowers and memories. I love that you remember all of these things as fondly as I do but I don’t know what to do. I’m really confused, but I do know that I love you too, and I’m sorry for hurting you by leaving._

_XXX_

_Victor, are you okay? There were things on TV today, saying that you’ve dropped out of sight. Can you text me back and just let me know you’re okay?_

_XXX_

_Victor, are you looking at your phone at all? I’m getting really worried._

I smirk a little at how frantic he’s getting, but I don’t want to torture him, so I start to text him, but in the middle of it, the phone starts to ring, and the display shows his face and his phone number. My heart’s pounding pretty hard as I answer.

“Hello?”

“Victor?” Yuuri’s scared voice says.

“Mmhmm, I’m sorry, Yuuri. I was just texting you back. I don’t look at my phone until evening. Speaking of which, it’s late for you to be up.”

“I was worried after the news reports earlier.”

“They’re just trying to stir up trouble,” I say quietly, “I am fine. I’m just somewhere quiet, where I can train for worlds without any distractions.”

“Okay. I’m glad you’re all right.”

“Thank you. I hope you’re doing all right too.”

“Not really. I miss you,” he says sadly, “I know I was the one who left, and I’ve been doing a lot of thinking about that. It’s been really crazy here, with everyone speculating about me being here without you, and how that’s going to affect me, going into worlds. Then, there’s Mari and Minako and Takeshi, who complain to me every day that I’m being stupid. And then, there’s you and the flowers. Really, you don’t have to.”

I can’t hold back a little smile.

“I don’t want you to forget me.”

“I could never forget you. You know that. I think you like teasing me.”

“I do. But that’s not why the flowers keep coming. The flowers and the memories are to remind you of what is waiting for you when you come back to me. I hope that will be soon. The sun won’t shine again for me until you’re with me, _solnyshko_. And Russia is cold without you, even when the sun does shine.”

“Ugh, now I feel even worse,” he complains, “I don’t know what to do, Victor. I want to come back, but I’m still so upset that you would do something like that.”

“I know, but let me ask you to do something that might make things clear up for you. I want you to think about something. Picture the three strongest, most enduring couples you know, and I want you to ask yourself what they do when they really disagree on something. Not something small, but something really big.”

It doesn’t take him very long to figure out where I’m going. I can almost see him blushing as he silently compares us to those stronger couples in his mind.

“I guess they don’t run away,” he mumbles, sounding embarrassed and completely intimidated, “I guess that they do what you said in the first place, and work it out together.”

“And do you think that even though we’ve had a major falling out, that we can maybe talk in person, now that you’ve had a week or so to think about it?” I ask.

“I don’t know,” he sobs softly, “You know, it’s not easy disagreeing with you. I’ve looked up to you for so long, it’s hard to try to argue with you. Victor, maybe the problem isn’t all you doing something that made me feel like you thought I was weak. Maybe it’s not that I think you see me as weak, it’s that I see myself that way, but I blame you instead. And that’s not really fair.”

“What do you think would be fair to us, Yuuri?” I ask him.

He’s quiet for a minute, then he gives a shuddering sigh and answers.

“Maybe I should come home.”

_Is he starting to really envision it?_

_When he left, it was Japan that he referred to as home, but just now…_

“Do you want me to come home, Victor, or have I made you angry, taking so long to figure things out?”

“I’m not angry, Yuuri. I’m lonely for the other part of me.”

“Me too,” he confesses, “I’ve been feeling scared, because for awhile, I’ve felt overwhelmed, like I was losing myself in you. I don’t know if that makes sense. It’s like, having focused on you for so long, I lost sight of who I am. But now? I just feel more like I’m connected to you, and who I am is mingled somehow with who you are. But when I look at my own parents, that’s kind of how they are too. Neither one is completely lost in the other, but I don’t think of one without the other. Do you know what I mean?”

“I do.”

“And do you feel like you are I are like that?”

Now, he has me smiling. It takes him awhile sometimes, but it’s just inexperience. I suppose Yuuri can’t be blamed for never having been in love before. Relationships are messy and complicated, but moments like this one make me think that it’s all worth it.

“If I didn’t, do you think I would be so miserable without you right now?” I laugh softly, “Come home, Yuuri. Pick up Maccachin and come up to the mountains with me. There’s a quiet place here where we can relax and have peace and quiet to talk and to train together. If it makes things easier for you, then we can sleep separately, so you have more space to think.”

“I don’t want more space,” he sobs, breaking down completely, “I have so much space now that I can’t even enjoy being in my hometown without you now. Everywhere I go, I think about you coming here and spending all of that time with me. I can’t stop thinking about places we were together and everything that happened. And the more I think about it, the more I think it’s like you said before I left. I do feel like it’s fate that we’re together. I’m just…scared sometimes.”

“I am also.”

“Really?” he whimpers, “Because you always seem stronger than me.”

“I’m not stronger than you,” I assure him, “I’m maybe a little more experienced and I can hide my emotions more easily, but that doesn’t make me stronger than you. It just hides my weaknesses.”

“Victor,” he says in a shaky voice, “I really hurt you when I left, didn’t I?”

“Yes,” I reply calmly, “You hurt me.”

_I could lie to him, and he might feel better for the short term, but I think it’s better to be honest with him and let him sort it out._

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s all right. Just come home and talk to me. Whatever is between us isn’t as big as all of that. You don’t need to torture yourself over it. Just trust that, whatever mistakes you make or I make, we are both well intentioned, and we both want the same thing.”

“To be together,” he breathes more calmly.

“Mmhmm, see? It’s not so hard. Will you come home now, _solnyshko_?”

He hesitates for a moment, then sniffs softly.

“Okay. It’s Mom’s birthday tomorrow, so I want to stay for that, but I’ll come home after. You want me to pick up Maccachin?”

“Yes, he’s with my parents.”

“You didn’t take him with you?”

“No. Maccachin is too sensitive to my emotions. I was worried he’d get stressed out, being around me when I’m unhappy.”

“Well, we’ll come and make sure you’re not unhappy then,” he says, sounding more encouraged.

“I’m glad to hear that.”

 _Suddenly, I feel a lot better_.

“Yuuri?”

“Hmm?”

“I’m very sorry that I hurt you too. I also apologized to Maret for not listening when he and Sava told me that knocking you out was a bad idea.”

“They told you that?”

“Yes, but I didn’t listen.”

“That’s not very surprising,” he says dryly.

“I also apologized for leaving Maret and taking chances when I panicked because Modya’s thugs grabbed you. I made two poor decisions, and it could have ended badly.”

“I’m glad you see that. I mean, you said you were sorry right away, but I didn’t believe you.”

“You do now?”

“I do.”

“Okay. I’ll text you the information, so that you can find your way here. Just…I’d prefer if you kept it between you and me.”

“Yakov is really mad at you, isn’t he?” Yuuri asks, sounding amused.

“When is he not?”

“Victor?”

“Hmm?”

“I’m really looking forward to seeing you again.”

“I’m looking forward to seeing you too. Wish Hiroko a happy birthday for me.”

“I will.”

“I love you, Yuuri.”

“Love you too.”

It’s easier to sleep after that, even though I’m still lonely. Even though the winds outside are picking up and it’s started snowing, I feel much warmer inside.


	32. Back to You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yuuri arrives at the cottage and finds Victor in a compromising position.

Waiting for Yuuri to arrive is sweet torture. Aeroflot is notoriously unpredictable, and the storms that have been going through can throw off flight times. Add to that, he was going to stay one more day before leaving, and it ends up feeling like forever as I anticipate his arrival. While I wait, I pour all of my energy into training. I’m up before dawn each day and Maret and I warm up with hot cocoa or coffee, then I warm up and stretch my body in the cottage before braving the bluster that’s going on outside. It’s only twenty or so feet to the building the rink is inside, but I have to wear a heavy coat and scarf, and I’m a little breathless after fighting that devilish wind. The lights in the building flicker a little when I turn them on, but I know there’s a generator I can use if they go out or anything.

Knowing that Yuuri will be on his way to me soon gives me added energy. I do spend time on basics to make sure my injured hip is loosened up, then I run through my short program, using single and double jumps. I have a quad lutz and quad flip planned, as well as a quad flip, triple toe loop combination. The first spin combination is not so difficult, but the one after the last jump has a complicated entry and it’s going to put pressure on the hip that’s hurting me.

But I’m feeling inspired, so I get a little reckless and decide to try to do a full run through with the jumps as planned. Before I begin, I practice a few double and triple jumps. I land the doubles fine, but the triples feel a little shaky. It’s fine. I have to build up, so I’m going to have to tough out some step outs and rough landings, even some falls.

I start the music for the short program and breeze through the step sequence. I’ve added a few eye catching turns and, borrowing a little from my longtime friend, Chris, more suggestive hip motion. Of course, one of my hips is not wanting to wiggle properly, so the movement is a little stiff. But it’s still an improvement. I finish the step sequence and perform the first combination spin with no problems. As I move into the second half, I take a deep breath and take off for the quad lutz. It’s a toe assisted jump and I begin with my left foot, but land on my right. I manage to make enough rotations, but because I have to land on back outside edge of my right foot, when my free leg swings around, it I feel it in my hip, and the muscles in that area cramp painfully.

“Shit!” I pant, collapsing onto the ice, “F-fuck, that hurts!”

I sit on the damned ice, turning my body to gently stretch the cramping muscles and to let the coldness of the ice soothe my aching ass a little. I get to my feet and spend ten or so minutes working the area to loosen it again. I downshift to doubles, but the muscles continue to feel tight and ache. I manage to land double and triple toe loops and loops, but only really because they take off and land on the same foot, meaning I can avoid putting too much strain on my injured hip.

Given that I’ve possibly reinjured the muscles, I cut my practice short and limp back to the house. Maret is sitting on a sofa in the great room, watching a weather report, but he looks up and winces sympathetically as I stagger in with the snow fluttering all around me. I slam the door and groan piteously, stumbling to the sofa and collapsing into it. As my ass touches down, the muscles tighten, and I gasp and claw at my throbbing buttock.

“What the heck did you do?” Maret asks, getting up, “Did you fall on that hip?”

“I was trying to land a quad lutz, and my hip muscles chose the wrong moment to tighten. I fell and bruised it, so now it’s throbbing and cramping.”

He watches me squirm and swear for a minute or so, then shakes his head.

“You’d better let me massage that. You have pain relief cream, right?”

I try to laugh, but I just sound pathetic.

“You don’t need to rub my ass. I can do it myself,” I insist, “but can you get the cream for me?”

He nods and goes into my bedroom, where he finds the soothing cream and brings it back to me.

“Do you want me to leave you alone?” he asks.

“No, I need you to get my pants down, off of that hip. It hurts too much when I try to do it.”

_Don’t you dare laugh._

I’m not thinking that about Maret. He’s much too professional, but my mind is pervy, so it’s going there, of course. I cover my mouth with one hand as Maret pulls my sweatpants and under wear down to expose my bruised and aching butt cheek.

“That still looks really painful,” he comments sympathetically.

He rubs his hands together to warm them, then puts some of the cream on one of them as I lie down on my belly. I make a sound of agony and tears rise in the corners of my eyes as he gets on top of me, straddling my back as he begins to work at the hard knot of painfully tightened muscles. I think it would actually be more of a scream if I wasn’t clenching my teeth.

“Sorry, want me to stop?” he asks anxiously.

“N-nooooo!” I pant, clenching at the sofa, “You have to get it to loosen or I swear, I’ll die right here!”

“I don’t think you’re going to die,” he chuckles, making me groan and flinch as he works the muscles some more.

_I never thought of this until now, but the sounds of agony and nearly unbearable pain aren’t that different than the sounds of ecstasy._

“O-oh!” I groan, “Oh god, just shoot me.”

“Come on, now,” Maret chides me, “I know it hurts, but it’s not that bad, is it?”

“You have no _fucking_ idea!” I snap, “Please, Maret, get me a goddamned drink!”

“You don’t want that,” he tries to convince me.

“O-oh! Oh god, I do! I do! I do!” I whimper, tears leaking onto my face, “This is murder!”

“It’s loosening a little, isn’t it?” he queries, running his fingers in circles and very carefully working at the knotted muscles again, “Does it feel looser to you?”

“Ahhhhhh!” I pant, “A little? Oooooooh! Oh god!”

We hear the door close and Maret straightens, so we’re both looking at Yuuri, who is standing just inside the door alongside a curious looking Maccachin, looking at Maret sitting astride my back with a hand still on my naked ass. Our startled bodyguard hastily removes his hand and dismounts.

“Ah, Yuuri, you’re here!” I manage, still panting a little from the residual pain.

“Eh, let me get your coat for you,” Maret offers, approaching my piqued husband-to-be and first extending one hand, then realizing it’s the hand that was rubbing cream on my ass, and swiftly switching to the other.

“It’s not what it looks like,” I snicker, biting at my lips, “I fell while practicing, and the muscles in my hip cramped.”

“I know what I walked in on,” Yuuri says dryly, “Your pants would have been all of the way down if there was something going on involving sex.”

“Yuuri!” I object.

Maret blushes and coughs.

“Ah, I’ll go and um, make some tea,” he offers.

“I’ll have mine without the knockout drops,” Yuuri says with a touch of sarcasm.

“R-right,” Maret answers, heading out of the room.

I start to sit up, then howl in pain and collapse as my hip cramps again.

“Hold still, idiot!” my lovely fiancé scolds me as he comes to join me.

He pulls a chair up to the couch and picks up the tube of soothing cream. I lose my breath a little as he applies the cream to his fingers.

_Yuuri’s very good at relieving knotted muscles, but he is a little brutal about it…and he’s not likely to pull his punches right now when he’s a little pissed at me._

Uh, Yuuri, you don’t have to…OW! SHIT, THAT FUCKING HURTS!” I scream.

“Hold still,” he snaps, grabbing a throw pillow and shoving it at me.

I close my eyes tightly and bite down on the throw pillow as he pushes his cream covered fingers into the heart of the knot of muscles. It’s a good thing, too, because I scream bloody murder into that thing as he kneads the area mercilessly.

“Stop being such a baby, Victor,” he says, frowning at me.

“Baby, my ass!” I yell at him, “YOU’RE KILLING ME!”

I loose a string of swear words in at least three languages, maybe four, as he works the muscles relentlessly, until they loosen under his determined fingers in pure submission. The pain finally starts to taper off, and I’m left a sweaty, shaking mess on the sofa, with my bare ass still exposed.

“I feel like I should smoke a cigarette after that,” I sigh.

“You don’t smoke, stupid,” Yuuri says, rolling his eyes.

“It was like a religious experience,” I laugh giddily, “Seriously, you are _amazing_ , Yuuri!”

“Would you please pull your pants up now?” he asks as he gets up and goes to wash his hands.

When he returns, I’m sitting up on the sofa, resting on my unbruised hip and sipping at the tea Maret has served. Maccachin is curled up at my feet, with his chin rested warmly on my bare toes. Yuuri sits down on the other end of the sofa, leaving some space between us.

“Where did Maret go?” he asks, “He didn’t have to run off, because of me.”

I give a little shrug.

“He’s probably giving us some space so we can talk,” I suggest, “But you must be tired from the long trip. If you want, we can put off talking and just…”

I pause, not knowing what to say, and Yuuri smiles sadly.

“Just what?” he asks, “What do you want me to do, Victor?”

 _Yuuri is so damned beautiful, happy, mad or sad. What I want more than anything is just to_ …

“Do you think we could hold each other a little?” I ask, “I’ve really missed you, and you said that you missed me too.”

“Yeah,” he sighs, moving closer and curling into my arms, “I have.”

Maccachin whines happily at seeing us together, and he thumps his tail on the floor.

“So damned much has happened,” I sigh wearily.

“There hasn’t been time to stop and take a breath,” he adds, “Everything keeps moving so fast, all of the travel and training, and all of the stuff with your mom and dad and Modya.”

“We can slow down now,” I reassure him, petting his hair and kissing him on top of the head, “We do need to train, but that is really just refining our programs so that we’re ready for worlds.”

He tilts his head a little to meet my eyes questioningly.

“So, is that how you hurt yourself today?” he asks, “You were training? Were you doing something stupid, like trying a quad so soon after being injured?”

“Touché,” I chuckle, “I was attempting a quad lutz.”

“Oh my god, Victor!” he complains, covering his face with his hands for a moment.

“What?” I ask, giving him a blank look, “I warmed up a lot. I have to try one sometime soon. There aren’t that many weeks, and I have to refine my program in time.”

“Well, you won’t be refining anything if you keep reinjuring yourself.”

“That hadn’t escaped me,” I chuckle, “That’s why I warmed up a lot and I stretched and loosened it before trying to build up to the quads. I just need to give it a few more days, and maybe focus on toe loops and loops that I can do on my good side.”

But you’re cramping so much on that side,” he points out, “I could feel how tight everything was when I worked on it. You need to rest it for a couple of days before trying to skate on it.”

“I’ve altered my workout so that I don’t stress that hip.”

“Then, you’re putting additional stress on the other side,” he nags me, “You could cause pain on that side too.”

“You’re giving me a pain in my head. Don’t worry about me. I’ve got everything under control.”

“Says the guy who was lying on his belly and having me sort the knots out of the muscles in his backside,” Yuuri argues.

“It’ll be okay,” I laugh good naturedly, “I’m a professional.”

“Seriously, please be careful,” he says more quietly, “I don’t like it when you’re hurting.”

I give him a wicked little smirk.

“It seemed like you were enjoying the hell out of torturing me earlier when you were giving me that ass massage.”

“V-victor!” he giggles, blushing.

_Now we’re getting somewhere!_

“I feel like I owe you for helping me with my ass problem. Is there anything I can rub for you?” I tease him shamelessly.

He gives me a conflicted look.

“Um, I don’t know if I’m ready for us to just go back to normal again,” he says anxiously.

I give him a patient smile and back off…a little.

“Well, could we maybe kiss a bit? Just on the mouth? I’m really, really missing your lips, Yuuri.”

He doesn’t answer with words, but after a little hesitation, his head turns and he meets my lips tentatively. I part mine a bit, so that the kisses we exchange are a little wet, and I nip lightly at his lips, teasing him until he sighs and opens his mouth to invite me in deeper. I thrust my tongue in amorously, stroking and exploring every inch that I can touch. I’m careful not to advance from kissing to anything else. I hold him gently, but I don’t let my hands wander over him, like I normally would. We kiss like that for several minutes before stopping.

He looks more closely at my blackened eye and kisses the area very lightly, then he rests his head on my shoulder again and I pet his hair tenderly.

“Does that hurt?” he asks.

“Not unless you touch it with your fingers.”

“Too bad it’s on that side. If it was on the other, then your hair would cover it up.”

“It’s okay, there’s no one here who will like me less with a black eye.”

Yuuri traces the bruised area with his fingertips and kisses it again. He still looks conflicted.

“I don’t want to feel distant from you,” he says in a troubled voice.

“Do you feel distant? I’m right with you,” I promise him, “Whatever you need to feel connected, to feel close to me, I will do. You know that.”

“Yeah, I do,” he sighs.

“We’re going to be okay, Yuuri,” I tell him reassuringly, “All we need is some time to work things through slowly.”

“I don’t think Victor knows how to move slowly,” he whispers, anxiously, “I’m worried that if we sleep together tonight, we’ll end up making love, and then…”

“Oh no, that would be _terrible_ if we made love. You know, I think it might bring about the end of the universe,” I tease him.

“I’m being serious,” he chides me, “Maybe we should sleep in separate rooms tonight.”

“Yuuri!” I complain, “I’m not going to jump on you. If you don’t want to make love, we won’t make love.”

“That’s the thing!” he says in an agitated tone, “It’s not just you. It’s me too. I’m here with you, and you’re so beautiful…and you smell so good.”

“That’s the pain reliever cream on my ass,” I snicker.

He pushes his nose into that little place between my neck and my shoulder and breathes in slowly.

“Yuuri,” I object, blushing, “that tickles. If you do that, I’ll get hard!”

He teases me with his hot breath, then kisses the sensitive skin there, and I feel myself melting. My heart pounds, my head feels dizzy and my very neglected cock twitches and comes to life.

“Are you teasing me, just to prove I can’t resist you?” I ask, frowning, “You say you don’t want for us to make love, but you kiss and touch me like this! Yuuri, what are you doing?”

“I guess it’s inevitable, isn’t it?” he whispers, grabbing my shirt and pushing it up, over my head, then entwining my wrists there in the twisted cloth.

“Yuuri…”

I try turning my head to the side, but he attacks my exposed throat with biting kisses.

“Yuuri!” I gasp breathlessly, “We shouldn’t be doing this. We haven’t even talked yet.”

The sinful smirk he gives me brings a genuine blush to my cheeks.

“Since when does the great Victor Nikiforov need words?” he teases me, sliding a hand down, into the front of my pants and wrapping it around my already thick and leaking cock, “All you’d have to do is smile and give me that sexy wink, and I’d collapse on the ground, at your feet, right?”

“N-no! I don’t know…” I moan as he licks and sucks at the one of my nipples that isn’t surrounded with ugly bruises, “If you’re not going to make love to me, then please stop now?”

“You don’t really want me to stop.”

“No, I don’t,” I admit, “but it’s cruel to tease me.”

“But, I’m not teasing,” he said, pushing his way in between my thighs.

Intense pain blossoms in my hip again, dragging a howl of pain from my lips and instantly killing the mood. Yuuri gives me a mortified look.

“Sorry! Sorry, Victor! Oh god, I’m sorry!” he apologizes, helping me to unbind my hands and to shift into a more comfortable position.

“It’s okay,” I pant dazedly, “Like you said, we shouldn’t be having sex yet anyway.”

“Yeah. Really.”

“Ow…!”

“Sorry!”


	33. New Inspiration

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A tense situation reveals Victor's secret fear.

The next morning, when I wake, I’m so happy I feel like crying to wake up hugging Yuuri against me and feeling Maccachin lying on our feet. We’re both wearing pajamas, even though I usually don’t. Supposedly, according to him, that would keep us from just making love out of instinct while we’re half asleep or something. I still want to eat him alive, but I know we need time to talk things out, so I just lie there, holding him as he sighs and snores softly and very cutely in his sleep.

I have another reason for not moving, and that is that I’m afraid to move my injured hip after screwing it up again yesterday by failing a quad jump and falling on it. I iced it before bedtime, although I might have been more inclined to do so because it left my bare bottom visible in front of my stubbornly resistant, but oh-so-attracted fiancé. He teases me so much the way he struggles with himself. It’s back to what he was like when I first met him…when I just put my hand under his chin and suggested that we should get to know each other, because our relationship should be built on trust. He backpedaled so hard, he banged into the wall behind him. And then, he kept running away and shutting down, no matter what I tried.

_Yuuri complains about me acting like a child. He can’t seem to make up his mind at all! One minute, he’s saying we shouldn’t sleep together, and the next, he’s complaining because he can’t keep his hands off of me. And even though he admits that it’s fate we’re together, he acts like that fate terrifies him._

_Why is loving me so scary?_

I think about that for a minute, and get visions of my drunken exploits, undressing and hanging on him in public, threatening to quit as his coach and making him cry, then dragging him into my problems and nearly getting him killed along with me and a few other people.

_Okay, maybe I see why loving me is a little scary._

_No, it’s a lot scary._

_Yes, when it comes right down to it, it’s a miracle that he’s still with me. I am a drunk, a pervert, a cruel person, even if it’s usually not intended, and my personal life is as much of a mess as I am sometimes._

_I’m lucky he hasn’t run away for good._

I lace my fingers together with his and kiss the back of his neck. I do it without remembering that it’s how I wake up next to him all of the time. And he has the natural reaction like always, of turning to kiss me and opening his pretty brown eyes to look sleepily into mine. It’s awkward, because a lot of times, we end up having sex right after, but this time, I just caress his face until he closes his eyes again, then I start to get up.

And my hip muscles clench, and I crash gracelessly to the floor, but at least I don’t land on my bad hip. Yuuri peeks over the edge of the bed, frowning sympathetically.

“It’s okay,” I pant, gritting my teeth and trying not to move a muscle for a second, “It’s just stiff…eh…the muscles are, I mean.”

Yuuri huffs out a breath and gets out of bed. He helps me to the bathroom and fills the tub for me, then starts the soothing jets and tells me to get in. Unfortunately, this isn’t home or Yutopia Katsuki, so there’s only room for me. But Yuuri’s already stumbling sleepily back to bed. I manage to get in the tub without killing myself, and I almost cry at how good it feels with the hot water and the vibration of the jets.

_If only I could just stay in here all day._

But life is not fair, and even though my hip is loosened up after awhile so that getting out isn’t a problem, I feel lonely bathing without him.

Okay, I’m really just sulking because Yuuri is here, but I can’t push him too hard or he might run away from me again.

_I need to tie him down or something._

That conjures some wonderful, but inappropriate (for right now, anyway) images, so I push it out of my mind and make myself get out and dry off. Yuuri’s still sleeping soundly when I limp out into the bedroom with no clothes on. I take my time getting dressed, stealing glances at him, because there’s nothing in the world that’s more adorable than my _solnyshko_ , curled up and sleeping in our bed in the morning. I don’t want to leave, but I do have to get some training done…although, I think I’ll be very careful of my hip this time. I don’t want a repeat of yesterday.

_Although, some of yesterday was very funny…or would have been if I hadn’t been hurting so badly._

Maret has my breakfast waiting at the table.

“You’re the best,” I sigh gratefully, sitting down and digging in, “Thank you.”

“It’s no problem,” he chuckles.

He turns back to the counter to finish making his own meal.

“I’m sorry if I made things awkward for you and Mr. Katsuki yesterday,” he apologizes, “He wasn’t too upset or anything, was he?”

“Oh…no, he wasn’t. Yuuri knew you weren’t doing anything inappropriate. He was just a little flustered, and he’s still angry at me for knocking him out.”

“I guess that’s understandable.”

“I guess so,” I chuckle, shaking my head.

After breakfast, I stretch out a little, then bundle up and trudge the twenty feet through the newfallen snow to the ice rink building. I open the door and turn on the lights so I can get to the ice without killing myself. I put on my skates, turn on some music, then step onto the ice and warm up with gentle figures, carefully avoiding putting any stress on my right hip.

I breathe slowly as I work, even closing my eyes a little as I move around the softly lit rink. It feels more peaceful now, mostly because I know Yuuri is sleeping nearby, and he’ll be in later this morning to train with me. There’s still some work to do repairing what’s gone wrong, but at least he’s here, and we’re both trying. With the weight of physical distance lifted, I can relax and really enjoy the connection between the music, my body and the ice under me. I sink into the familiar sounds and the calm, sweeping sensation as I turn and spin, then glide across the ice. A few times, I forget my injury for a moment, and it hurts when my body reminds me. All in all, though, my morning practice is thoroughly enjoyable, and it only gets better when I hear a second set of blades on the ice.

I extend a hand as Yuuri skates out to me and we join hands and perform a scripted set of moves that help him to warm up. I’m already warm, and my hip is loosened up now, so I put small amounts of weight on it, here and there to carefully test it, then to work it just a little.

“How is your hip this morning?” he asks.

“A lot better than it was last night,” I answer, smiling at him, “but I hope you don’t expect me to say thank you to you for torturing me like you did.”

“It’s better, isn’t it?” he says a little saucily.

“It is now, but you nearly killed me, you know.”

“Whatever it takes,” he says, smirking (because I’ve said that to him during training, when the shoe was on the other foot before.).

I glide to a stop and watch as he moves through a more comprehensive warm up that focuses on different sets of muscles. When he’s ready, we go through his short program and then his free skate, with me dissecting them and breaking down the pieces that recently cost him the gold at the Four Continents competition.

“I know. I know!” he groans as we watch the replays together, and I point out exactly where he lost points in his performance.

“You’re not just going to be skating against J.J. and Yurio in a few weeks,” I remind him, “You’ll be skating against me also. You know my reputation, so you need to be ready and able to use every weapon in your arsenal.”

I notice he’s giving me a sort of funny look, and as understanding dawns on me, my eyes narrow and start to glare at him.

“What?” I challenge him, “Is there something you want to say to me, Yuuri?”

“Um,” he stammers, “n-no?”

“I can see it,” I snap at him, “ _You_ don’t think you have to worry about me as a competitor this time!”

“No, Victor, that’s not it!” he objects.

“Then what the hell is it?” I demand furiously, “What exactly _are_ you telling me?”

“Nothing!” he insists, “I didn’t say anything!”

“You know you don’t have to say it for me to see it written all over your face. You don’t think I’ll bring it this time, and you think I’ll be easy to beat, don’t you?”

“I…I didn’t say that! I mean, all that crossed my mind was that you were injured and recovering. I didn’t mean I thought you…”

“You cocky little _shit_!” I yell at him, “You just wait. I’ll make you eat those words you wouldn’t just say to my face!”

“Victor, I didn’t mean…!” he tries to argue.

“Go to hell, Yuuri!” I shout, skating back to the edge of the rink, “And while you’re at it, mind you goddamned free leg, stop two footing your triple flip and fucking keep your mind on your skating and not whatever is screwing with your head that particular day!”

“Victor!”

I barely remember tearing off my skates, stomping barefoot back to the cottage and locking myself in the bathroom with a bottle of really good vodka. I make a bubble bath in the bathtub and turn on the jets, then I sink down into the hot, swirling water and tune everything out.

_I can’t believe that after everything I’ve done for him and all of the faith I’ve had in him, he would doubt me like that! The cocky little bastard!_

I know that I shouldn’t have lost my temper like that, but having Yuuri think something so insulting…still, it’s not completely out of left field. I was injured recently, and he knows what bad shape my hip is in. He’s only doubting that I will heal fast enough to be ready for the intensity of competition against the best skaters in the world.

_That hurts more than the injury._

_Yuuri once told me, “Have more faith that I’m going to win than I do.” But now that I am the one needing encouragement, he doubts me. I understand why. It’s completely logical._

_But the person who loves you should believe in you when logic says they shouldn’t. The person who loves you should be behind you, win or lose. I don’t feel that at all with him right now._

_I helped Yurio and Yuuri to grow so that I wouldn’t be alone at the top, so that I could share that euphoria of being there together…but Yurio never makes a secret of it, and Yuuri just showed me that the two of them only want to take that place away from me, not share it. And the truth is, I’m getting older. With every year, I’ll lose a little bit of strength, until I simply don’t have what it takes to compete with the younger skaters and I’ll bow out of the sport and probably take on more students. It’s not anyone’s fault, it’s just the cold, hard facts of life._

_But why is everyone in such a rush to see me retire?_

_I still feel like I have years left to give and competitions to win. I don’t think I’m done yet. That wasn’t why I took this season off. I’ve always believed in myself. I’ve never felt that I needed other people to believe in me. I always kind of liked it when people doubted me, because I would go on to surprise them._

_So really, I guess I am upset because seeing Yuuri doubting me made me doubt myself._

_I don’t know._

_Maybe I should just retire._

I open the bottle of vodka and take a deep swallow, letting it burn down my throat, bringing more indignant tears to my eyes. I let them slide down my face unchecked.

_Or…I could go and get a cortisone shot into my injured hip._

_It’s a fact that, because cortisone contributes long term to the breakdown of the tissues in a joint, it’s recommended to have no more than three of them into any particular joint. Younger skaters are more reluctant to start that count, but an older skater like me, who has less anticipated years of competition left, is more likely to turn to such a thing. It would help with the pain and get me jumping again sooner, but it would also start the countdown._

_I’ll have to think about that._

I take another few swallows of the vodka, but having no intention of passing out in the tub and drowning myself, I stop myself soon enough to avoid that fate. I wish I could say that the hot bath soothed my burgeoning emotions, but it really didn’t, so I get out, dry off and collapse onto the bed, glad that I locked the bedroom door when I came in. Yuuri knocks on the door a few times and Maccachin scratches at it a little, but I’m not in a mood for company…except maybe the company of another drink.

I know two more shots will make me really drunk without making me also pass out, so I go to that limit, then set the liquor aside and rest on my belly on the bed, looking out the sliding glass doors that lead to the balcony outside. The snow is coming down hard and the flakes spin in the air quite beautifully. I would find the sight peaceful if I wasn’t emotionally overwrought.

_Why did I give Agape and Eros to those two?_

_I thought I was motivating them, and that I would also be motivated, and for awhile, it seemed that was what was happening. But I never thought that they would begin to sweep away my accomplishments so quickly. First my short program record, then my free skate record. I didn’t feel bad when it happened. It was all according to my original plan, which was to use their momentum to motivate myself to fight harder. I was fighting really hard to come back, when…this…happened._

_Now, I just feel destroyed._

_Because, when I met Yuuri, he looked up to me, but today…he was looking down on me._

I look at the bottle of liquor.

_Maybe I want to pass out for awhile._

_Maybe I just want to stop feeling horrible._

“Victor?” Yuuri calls through the door, “Come on, Victor, let me in, okay? I don’t care if you’re drinking, I just want to talk to you, all right? Open the door.”

“Leave me alone, Yuuri,” I growl at him, tears filling my eyes again, “I don’t want to talk to you.”

“Will you let me in?” asks a second male voice.

_Shit._

_He called Stefan?_

_How did Stefan even get all of the way up here in the middle of a damned snowstorm? He risked life and limb to come running to rescue a fuck up like me?_

_Oh god, I really, really don’t want this!_

“Victor?”

_I wonder if I should just jump off the goddamned balcony and bury myself in the snow. If the fall doesn’t kill me, I’ll just fall asleep there and freeze to death. Either way, being as drunk as I am, I won’t feel a thing. That was the idea of getting drunk, right? To stop feeling so much?_

“Victor, if it helps you any,” Stefan continues, “I don’t have to be your counselor right now. I can just be a friend. If you want to talk, I’ll listen. If you don’t want to talk, I’ll just sit with you. Whatever you need, let me help you. I know you’re hurting. I don’t want you to feel like you’re alone.”

I’m agitated and the last thing I want is to open that door, but for some reason, I get up and walk to the door anyway. I stand on one side, feeling Stefan’s stable presence on the other. I take a steadying breath and answer him.

“Fine, but for now, just you.”

“Okay.”

I unlock the door and open it. As he steps inside, I get a momentary glimpse of Maret, standing a short distance behind Stefan, holding my crying fiancé against him.

_I don’t understand._

_Why is he so distraught? He just left me to run to Japan, and he’s having a meltdown now, because I locked him out of our bedroom?_

_What am I missing?_

I shut and lock the door, then turn and look at Stefan, who looks back at me, quietly waiting.

“Why is Yuuri crying like that?” I ask him.

Stefan smiles sadly.

“I think he’s afraid for you.”

“What? Did he think I would try to kill myself or something?” I scoff.

“Yes.”

That answer takes me by surprise.

“Is he right to be worried?” he asks me.

I look him squarely in the eyes.

“I am not suicidal. If I wanted to do that, I would have done it. I was just…surprised at Yuuri’s reaction to something I said, and I came in here to sort it out.”

I wait for him to call me on the drinking, but he doesn’t say a word about the very obvious presence of the partially drunk bottle of vodka.

“Do you want to talk about that?” he asks.

“What? Yuuri’s reaction? What I said?”

“Both,” he answers.

“I only warned him that he wouldn’t just be up against Yurio and J.J. Leroy, who are talented skaters who have defeated him in the past, but that he would be competing against me, so he needed to be prepared to use everything he had to do that.”

“And what was his reaction?” Stefan asks, sitting down on the edge of the bed as I take a seat beside him.

“He looked at me strangely, like there was something wrong with what I said. And when I thought about it, I realized that what he was thinking was that he didn’t think I would be capable of competing with him.”

Stefan frowns curiously.

“He said that it was because of my injuries,” I explain, “but the part that hurt me was that he was doubting me. After years of looking up to me, Yuuri was looking down on me as a competitor.”

“I can understand why you would feel upset, hearing that from him.”

“I have always believed in Yuuri, and I thought he would always believe in me,” I go on, turning my head slightly as tears burn in the corners of my eyes again.

“What makes you feel that he doesn’t?”

“I just told you, he…he said that he was thinking my injuries might keep me from being able to compete with him.”

“And how did you respond to that?”

“I got angry and yelled at him. I came in and locked him out. I got drunk.”

He gives me a little nod.

“I see. You still look troubled.”

“I’m an aging figure skater who is recovering from injury, and the person I love most just as much as told me that he does not think I’ll be competition ready for worlds,” I say with an edge of indignation, “I think it’s reasonable to be troubled by that, don’t you?”

“Did you ask him to explain his reaction?”

“No, I was too busy yelling at him and coming into the house to sulk and drink my sorrows away,” I snap, “I didn’t slow down to think there might be a rational explanation for him not believing that I could win.”

Stefan’s smile is gentle and sad.

“Do you think that you might be able to listen to his explanation now?” he asks.

“I don’t know,” I answer, shaking my head, “I’ve had as much liquor as I can drink without passing out. If I get anymore upset, I may just take that option.”

Stefan considers for a moment, then he lets out a breath and nods briefly. As I watch him curiously, he picks up the bottle of vodka and walks to the door.

“I thought you said that you weren’t my counselor tonight,” I say, frowning at him as he starts to leave and motions for Yuuri to come inside.

“I’m not doing this as your counselor,” he says firmly, “I’m doing this as a friend.”

Yuuri looks pale as a ghost as he stands, looking at me and not saying a word. I can’t say anything either. I just feel humiliated all over again.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers finally.

“For what? For saying the truth to me as you saw it?” I ask bitterly, “Why should you apologize?”

“I hurt you,” he says shakily, “I never wanted to do that.”

“You looked down on me as a competitor and you questioned my ability.”

“No, I was worried about you being hurt. Really, that’s all,” he insists, “I didn’t mean for you to read so much into my reaction. I wasn’t thinking you couldn’t win.”

“Thanks for that,” I sigh, turning to look out at the falling snow.

I sense him stepping closer, then I feel his hand touch mine.

“Victor, what can I do? I don’t know what to do to fix this. Is there anything I can do? Anything I can say?”

I pull free of his hand and walk up to the sliding glass door, where I look deeper into the falling snowflakes.

“ _Just have more faith that I’m going to win than I do_ ,” I tell him in a soft, wounded voice, “ _You don’t have to say anything_ , _just stay close to me_.”

I watch his reflection in the glass of the doors, as tears fill his eyes and he wraps his arms tightly around me from behind.

_Because you really do know what it’s like to doubt yourself like I do right now, but to not be able to say it to anyone for fear that you’ll make it come true._

_Isn’t that right, Yuuri?_

“I do believe you can win,” he says in a low, determined voice, “and I’m going to make sure that you have every chance to do it. You’ve always been my inspiration…and now I swear to you, I’m going to be yours!”


	34. Tears of Healing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As they prepare for the World Championships, Victor and Yuuri reconnect emotionally.

Yuuri proves to me very quickly that he’s serious about inspiring me. He surprises me right away by dropping his defenses and sleeping naked with me again. He also makes it clear that he will have sex with me, although for some reason, I stop short of taking him up on it, and not just because the pain in my hip would be excruciating. It doesn’t feel quite right to me. I’m sure that his insecurities haven’t gone away. I still did something bad that hurt him, and I know it’s still bothering him, but he puts the focus instead on us preparing ourselves for the upcoming competition. We are both aware that a stable home and love life is important to us if we want to be properly supported.

As Yuuri rises to the occasion, so do I. Stefan and Filip join us at the cottage, and the agreement we have is that, although detox isn’t a workable option for me right now, limitation is. When I have an alcohol craving, I’ll have a little to take the edge off…with the understanding that, after worlds, I will make a final decision about rehab.

I also decide that, despite my hatred and terror when it comes to needles, and the fact that cortisone shots are probably the most painful shots in existence, I will go to a nearby clinic and get the shot into my hip.

Yuuri goes along with me…and it’s probably a good thing. By the time I get out of the car, I’m shaking all over and wishing I hadn’t gotten rid of my sedative pills.

“Eh, Yuuri, maybe we should forget this,” I say a little weakly.

“Don’t worry so much. It’ll be fine,” he reassures me, “Remember, this will make the pain less so that you can train properly.”

“Well, maybe I don’t want to…”

“Come on, Victor,” he says, smiling and taking my hand, “Don’t be such a baby.”

“They don’t use needles that big on a baby!” I snap indignantly.

“Come on, Victor…”

Yuuri is great. He sits with me while I wait and goes in with me when I’m called to see the doctor. The doctor examines me and agrees that the shot should improve things in that joint.

“Okay,” I sigh, shivering, “then go ahead.”

I tense up and get really shaky at just seeing the damned needle and I nearly smother myself in Yuuri’s shoulder as the doctor moves closer to administer the shot.

“Try to relax,” he advises me.

“Like I can relax when you are about to jab me with that huge thing!” I complain.

“Don’t look at it,” he suggests.

“Oh, I’m sure that will make it hurt less. I won’t look at it and will be fine…”

“Easy now. You’ll feel a little pinch.”

“How little?”

“Hold still!” Yuuri scolds me.

I manage to force the muscles in my right hip to loosen, by clenching my teeth and tightening up everywhere else. I’m not sure if I scream or not as the needle sinks into the joint, but I do pass out in Yuuri’s arms. I wake up a little later, lying on the examination table with my pants back on and Yuuri holding my hand and being really sweet to me all of the way home.

“Are you sure you’re okay now?” he asks, kissing my cheek, “I think you scared half the patients away with that sound you made when he gave you the shot. I don’t think the swearing helped either. I’m not sure I knew you could speak French.”

“Don’t tell me that, Yuuri!” I complain, “I’ll never be able to go back to that place again!”

I bend forward and put my face in my hands.

“I won’t be able to go out in public,” I whimper anxiously, “Everyone will know.”

“No one’s going to know,” Yuuri assures me, patting my arm, “Your medical records are confidential, and I think everyone felt so sorry for you, they wouldn’t think badly of you. Those shots are very painful.”

“You’re telling me?” I sob, reaching down to rub the place where the needle went in, “OW!”

“Well, don’t touch it,” he says, biting his lips so he won’t embarrass me by laughing at me.

“It fucking _hurts_!”

“I know,” he assures me, “Sorry.”

“I thought it was going to make things better, not worse, “My bottom aches and that place stings too!”

“We’ll put a little ice on the injection site when we get home,” he suggests, “and remember…eh…”

He pauses and looks at me sheepishly.

“Oh, you _don’t_ remember, because you were out cold, but the doctor said that you should be prepared because the pain will get worse for a few days before it gets better, so only train gently and don’t put stress on it.”

“Wait, what?” I say, giving him a look of dismay, “It’ll get worse, you say? Yuuri!”

“It’s okay. It’s okay. It’ll be fine. In a few days, your hip will feel much better and you can train harder, so you’ll be ready for worlds.”

I give a deeper sigh as my anxiety from the day before comes back.

“You don’t really think I can do this,” I accuse him half-heartedly, “You as much as said so.”

“I told you that’s not what I meant,” he insists, “Stop being so sensitive.”

“It’s funny, you telling me not to be sensitive,” I huff softly.

“Yeah,” he chuckles, “it is a little weird. Just try not to worry. Let’s get you home and let you rest a little.”

To say that my situation is worse by the next morning is an understatement. Despite icing the area several times during the night, by morning the entire joint is throbbing. Yuuri informs me that while I was out cold, the doctor explained to him that there might be inflammation in the joint after the shot, but that it should fade within 48 hours. And ice is my only option. I’m advised not to apply heat, and I can’t go in any pools, hot tubs or regular tubs, because they worry about infection. So, I’m reduced to lying on the hip that doesn’t hurt, and when I’ve used most of the ice in the cottage, Yuuri starts making little snow packs from the abundant amounts of snow outside. So, my ass gets sore and really, really cold.

I’m not a happy person…

“We should stretch your hip joint a little,” he says as he brings in yet another little snow pack.

“N-noooooo, Yuuri!” I groan, turning on the bed so that he can’t reach my bare bottom, “Don’t!”

I end up putting weight onto it, and I wince and swear at him.

“Shit! Get that away from me!”

“Doesn’t it still hurt?” he asks, frowning.

“Of course it does, but I can barely feel the rest of my ass with how much ice you keep putting on it. I’m going to get frostbite!”

“You won’t get frostbite,” he says skeptically, reaching for my hip to pull it towards him.

“Ow! Stop that.”

“Get your butt over here, then,” he argues, “You’re supposed to ice it every half hour or so.”

“It’s enough already. It feels better. Leave me alone.”

He gives me a stern look and gently swats my ass, making me cringe and clench my teeth in reaction.

“Yeah, I can see how much better it is,” he says skeptically, “Hold still now.”

“I _don’t_ want any more ice on my ass!” I snap.

“Well, then I guess it’ll just have to hurt.”

“If it hurts, will Yuuri kiss it?” I ask, smirking and wiggling my bare bottom at him.

“Very cute,” he snickers.

“You think I’m cute?” I ask, wiggling my bottom again suggestively.

I lose my breath and shiver as he runs gentle fingers slowly down the length of my spine, then kisses the small of my back tenderly.

_We haven’t made love for awhile._

_Does he…?_

I relax on my belly and glance over my shoulder to watch as he follows the path his fingers took, but this time with his lips, making a warm trail of kisses all of the way.

“What are you doing, Yuuri?”

“You can probably stretch that joint a little now,” he tells me, “but we’ll do it slowly.”

I have to admit to blinking like a teenage girl at that.

_Did he mean we’ll stretch the joint…or that we’re really gonna do it?_

_With Yuuri, he could mean either one, but that makes it an adventure._

Things take a very promising turn as he slowly makes a love bite on my unhurt buttock.

“Oh, that feels good!” I purr, “Yuuri, make another!”

I don’t see it, but he smiles devilishly.

“I’ll make another, but Vitya has to let me put the snow pack on his other side,” he says seductively.

“Oh fine,” I sigh, “Go ahead, just keep biting me. I like it.”

“You like this?” he says, biting down and sucking the warm flesh as his other hand applies the ice pack to my hip.

The different sensations (and probably the fact that we haven’t had sex for awhile) make me hard instantly, and I wiggle a little, trying to make friction on my penis, which is trapped under me. Yuuri nips my bottom, making me yelp, then he slips a hand down between my thighs to fondle my blushing testicles while he continues to mark my buttock. I can’t even feel the cold ice on my ass now.

“Yuuri!”

_God, I sound desperate!_

_I feel desperate. I’m so hungry for him._

“You better not be teasing me, _solnyshko_. You’ll make me cry, I want you so much.”

I can feel his smile against my skin.

“Vitya wants me?”

_That’s a good sign. He only calls me that when we’re having sex, so…_

“I want you.”

“Tell me what Vitya wants.”

I’m starting to salivate, just thinking about the possibilities.

“I want to feel Yuuri’s tongue,” I answer saucily, “Lick me, Yuuri.”

I get kind of dizzy as he dampens his fingers with a flavored lubricant, then gently spreads my buttocks and wets the area with the lube, then I feel the most ungodly pleasure as he invades the area with his tongue. With maddening slowness, he teases me, making my cock throb and ache as he goes down further and sucks one of my warm, soft testicles into his mouth.

“Oh my god, Yuuri!” I gasp, squirming and raising my bottom to give him better access.

I forget all about my hip as he crawls slowly up my back and bites down on the back of my neck, pushing his hips gently down against mine, both grinding against me and also putting increasing pressure on my hip joint to loosen and stretch it.

“Yuuri, are you distracting me with sex, just so you can stretch that joint without me complaining at you?” I snicker.

He gives me a smirk, a cute wink and a little kiss over my shoulder.

“Whatever it takes.”

“I like the way you think. But…you _are_ really going to make love to me, aren’t you? You’re not just teasing me?”

His hand slides down my back, and he slips a finger inside me and turns me into his willing slave by teasing the sensitive nerves there until I’m writhing beneath him and pain is the furthest thing from my mind. He takes his time making a slow entry while I push my hips upward impatiently and claw at the bedding.

_I feel like it’s been forever since we were this close._

_What happened?_

_Why did I start to feel like you were so far away from me again?_

“It doesn’t hurt now, does it?” Yuuri asks.

_Physically, no, but my heart is still aching pretty badly._

“I’m fine, Yuuri.”

I dig into that feeling of connection that’s there, turning my head away so that he doesn’t see the tears that are building up.

_God, I’ve missed you so much, Yuuri! Can we just stay like this?_

He laces his fingers together with mine, then holds my hands down as he begins thrusting. And while we’re connected that way, I don’t feel any pain at all, just that complete bliss of being very, very close to him. All of the heavy emotions leak out of my eyes as he showers my body with his affections, pouring his love into every gentle touch, every tender kiss, and each sweet caress. He stuns me with a harder bite on the back of one shoulder as he pushes in deep and shudders, loosing himself and filling me with his heat and passion. He nudges me to flip me onto my back so he can finish me too, but I shake my head, keeping my face carefully turned away from him.

He’s still panting from exertion as he leans over me, trying to figure out why I wanted to stop.

“Victor?”

“Sorry,” I apologize, sitting up slowly and turning to look out at the falling snow.

“Are you okay?”

I try to wipe the dampness off of my face without him seeing, but there’s really no hiding it.

“Victor, what’s wrong?” he whimpers anxiously, “Did I hurt you?”

“No, you didn’t hurt me, Yuuri. I’m fine.”

“No, you’re not!” he exclaims, grabbing the hand I was using to brush away some of the tears, “You’re crying. Why? What did I do? You didn’t want to make love? I thought you did! That’s why I…!”

“I told you, it’s fine. Stop worrying so much about every little thing, Yuuri,” I manage, “Stefan warned me when we were talking earlier that after everything that’s happened, I would probably sometimes get emotional without there being a reason why. And I haven’t felt this close to you for awhile. We haven’t had sex since before almost getting killed by that maniac. Then, you went away to Japan.”

He looks so guilty at that, I’m sure he’s going to sink right into the bed.

“I wish I’d never left!” he says, tearing up, “If I’d just stayed, then we could have handled everything together.”

“Yuuri, stop.”

“But it’s my fault! I was being selfish,” he sobs, “I was only thinking of myself and my hurt feelings, my anger, my hurt, when I ran off and left you. I didn’t even stop to realize that someone just terrorized you, hurt you and tried to kill you in front of me. I just ran away, like a spoiled little brat and felt sorry for myself, while I wasn’t the one who was in so much danger.”

“We were both in danger. You don’t think after killing me, Modya would have just let you, an eyewitness to it, just go, do you?”

“I…”

“He would have killed you, Sava and Maret. Don’t forget that. Modya was insane. He wouldn’t have stopped at just killing me. Besides, even though you left, you at least came back, Yuuri. You weren’t even gone that long, really.”

“I was gone long enough,” he says, looking even more guilty, “I was gone long enough to make you drink again, when you were recovering before.”

I think I scare him more than a little as I capture his face in my hands and glare down into his widened eyes.

“Remember this, Yuuri, and _never_ forget it,” I tell him sternly, “You do not make me drink alcohol. I was an addict before I even knew you. I have been an addict all through the time we’ve known each other. When I pick up a glass and drink, there is only one person responsible for me doing that, and it is me. It is _never_ you or anyone else. Don’t look me in the eyes like this and try to tell me that it’s anyone else. I am completely in control of saying I will or I won’t. It’s a decision I make, Yuuri. It’s not in anyone else’s hands but mine…and anything bad that happens because of it…is _my_ responsibility. Do you understand?”

He nods and buries his face in my shoulder.

_Great, now I’ve made him cry._

“It’s okay, Yuuri. Don’t fret so much.”

“But, I was trying to make things better and instead I made you cry.”

“Stop it,” I complain, hugging him and kissing his wet face, “You’re ruining a very nice time we were having together.”

“You’re the one who was crying while I was making love to you!” he objects.

“Well, at least I was trying to keep it to myself, so I wouldn’t keep you from enjoying yourself,” I joke.

“That’s not funny, Victor!” he snaps, “I feel embarrassed for not noticing sooner.”

“It must have been my shiny ass that distracted you,” I say, smirking.

“Victor!”

“I’ll tell you what. If you want to make me feel better, why don’t we have a shower together and you can rub my ass a little more, okay?”

“Okay,” he snickers, finally loosening up a little.

“And, while you’re at it, you can finish what you started down there,” I say, indicating my still unsated penis, “After all, that _is_ your reaponisibility.”

“Victor…”

_I’m glad he’s laughing now._

_I really hate seeing Yuuri cry._


	35. Dreaming of You and Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Victor and Yuuri share warmth and love as the days to the World Championships count down.

Time begins to move swiftly as the days count down to the world championships. Yuuri and I stay at the mountain retreat up until a few days before we’ll have to leave, training hard to prepare ourselves. For me, it’s a grueling challenge. As soon as my hip is strong enough, I add the jumps back into my programs. The first few are painful as I make the adjustment after the break, but I’m lucky that the cortisone shot does its work, and soon my right leg can bear the stress of takeoffs and landings…yes, and falls too, because being out of practice is that way, even for a skating god. I pay my dues happily and as the days pass, I feel my confidence rising again.

_It was pretty damned cheeky of Yuuri to think that I would just let those injuries be the end of my season. I’m not the first skater having to claw his way back from injury. I’m not going to let Modya take away what was going to be a huge return for me._

Of course, I still have work to do to prepare myself. To do that, I start my day before sunrise. I have breakfast with Maret, Stefan and Filip, then the four of us head over to the ice rink together. We talk and laugh while we put on our skates and the three of them head down to the far end of the rink to amuse themselves while I warm up, then work on my basics. I leave time to work on my free program, because I don’t want Yuuri to know yet that I am trying to land a fifth quad in it.

The program is challenging to begin with. I find it’s not workable for me to put the quad lutz into the second half. My legs end up too shaky and that makes the jumps look sloppy, even if I do land them, so I put it in the later portion of the first half, and keep the less difficult jumps in the second half. But even that means doing a quad flip combination and a quad loop in the second half. That’s rough on me, not just because I’m recovering from injury, but because my stamina, even with the recent extra work I did, is only moderately better. Still, I am determined to make this work, so I throw myself into the program, performing the step sequence and first combination spin so well that the others stop and stare. My quad lutz comes off well, and I have only a little tremor in my legs on my quad flip. Moving into the second half, there are a lot of sensual moves, then I perform a quad flip, triple toe loop combination. There’s a buildup in the music, where the beat intensifies until, at its peak, I take off into the quad loop and I manage to get enough rotations in, but I fall on the landing.

_This is going to take some work._

I’m back on my feet immediately, and I continue with a triple salchow, triple loop combination. It’s got a high level of difficulty, so in the second half, will earn a higher base value. I finish with a triple axel and a quad toe loop, then a flying entry into a combination spin. While not being happy that I fell, overall, I’m pleased with how it goes. I’m going to have to work hard to fine tune it for the competition, but I’m confident now that I can pull it off.

Having pushed myself hard for about an hour, I stop to hydrate myself, then join Maret, Stefan and Filip for a little bit of ice dancing. I turn on some dance music, which Stefan and Filip begin to skate to. They’ve obviously been practicing since I last skated for fun with them and they look really cute together. Maret has basic knowledge of skating, and with a little guidance from me, he makes a fine dance partner. I give him a little bit of education in sexy moves on the ice and while we’re dancing it occurs to me that I’ve never heard him once talk about having a romantic partner.

So I ask him about it.

“Who has time for that?” he laughs, as Stefan and Filip fall in with us and we skate near each other so we can talk too, “I’m too busy.”

“Oh, no way,” I snicker, “There is _always_ time for that. And if there isn’t time, we have to make time. Everyone needs that. Tell me, do you like girls or boys?”

He laughs at that.

“Do I have to choose? I just like someone fun.”

“Someone fun?” I repeat as we do some little hops and turns together, “Do you mean like have some laughs together fun, or get yourselves arrested kind of fun?”

“I prefer not to get arrested, but I don’t mind pushing limits.”

“So, why do I never see you with anyone?”

“I told you, who has time for that?”

“That’s no excuse,” I chide him, “We’ll make time for you.”

“Eh, I wouldn’t know what to do,” he says, blushing a little, “I don’t have charisma.”

“You don’t have charisma?” I laugh, “You don’t need charisma. All you need…is a little bit of confidence and to know what will get a reaction. Here, watch.”

I back up a step and execute a little turn, then brush the hair away from my eye and give him a little wink and the barest little wiggle of my hips. Maret laughs, attracting Stefan and Filip’s attention, and pretty soon, we’re all flipping our hair and wiggling our hips suggestively as we continue dancing together. We’re laughing so hard after a few minutes that we don’t notice when my late blooming flower comes to join us.

“Okay, you’ve got that,” I tell Maret, “Now, you need to learn the sly smile.”

“The sly smile?”

“Uh-huh,” I say, nodding, “Anyone can smile, but if you want to get laid? You have to make it a sly little smirk that says _Over here, I’m trouble._ ”

“I’m trouble?” he laughs.

“Yes, tilt your head a little,” I direct him, showing him, then touching his chin to guide him, “Now, smile just a very little and narrow your eyes, kind of playful-like.”

The result is so adorable, Stefan and Filip clap their hands.

“That was beautiful!” I say approvingly, “Now, put it all together…a little turn, a flick of your hair, a little tiny hip wiggle, narrow your eyes and give’em that sly little smirk. Go on. Try it.”

In a moment, we’re all dancing around, flipping our hair, wiggling our hips and smirking, trying to seduce each other, and we’re laughing so hard that it hurts. I don’t see Yuuri as he skates over to us, then curls an arm around me and knocks me slightly off balance, then he dips me and glares down at me like I’ve been very naughty.

“What are you doing?” he breathes into my ear as he brings me up again, “Are you teaching them bad habits, Victor?”

“Oh, it’s nothing bad,” I say innocently, “I was just educating Maret in the art of seduction, so my fine friend here could get laid. That’s not a crime, is it? He’s a handsome boy. Doesn’t he deserve to have a little fun? He shouldn’t be trapped into a life of just guarding you and me from the hordes of lovely fans, all lusting after us.”

“You _are_ being bad,” Yuuri scolds me, playfully gabbing me by the chin and staring into my eyes, “Maret doesn’t need any tricks. And I’m sure he doesn’t just want to have sex. I think he wants to fall in love.”

As he says it, he nudges me back a step and takes me off balance again, so I fall into his arms.

“That doesn’t take any tricks. It just takes the right person.”

He smiles down at me, and our friends make sounds of surprise as Sava appears at the edge of the ice rink. He still looks a little pale, and his arm is in a sling, but he’s wearing a smile that warms sweetly as Maret brightens and goes to talk to him.

“When did he get here?” I ask, straightening.

“Just a few minutes ago,” Yuuri answers, “I was on my way over when he arrived. Victor, he told me that you asked him to stay on as my personal bodyguard. Is that true?”

“Mm, yes I did,” I confess.

“You really think you and I need to have bodyguards now? I mean, with Modya gone…”

“Well, we are celebrities,” I point out, “Lots of celebrities have bodyguards, right?”

Yuuri gives me a look that tells me he sees right through my bullshit.

“You don’t think we need bodyguards,” he accuses me, laughingly, “You’ve grown attached.”

I give a little shrug.

“Maybe so, but I’m rich. I can afford to keep them on. You don’t mind having Sava around, right?”

“No, he’s really nice, and I do feel safe with him there,” Yuuri admits, “I just…”

“What?” I ask, narrowing my eyes and squeezing his hand.

Yuuri blushes.

“I just think it’s cute when you do things like that…when you do something that doesn’t make sense, because you want to cling to people you like.”

“That’s not the only reason,” I insist, stealing another glance at our bodyguards as they hug each other and Maret leaves the ice to go and sit with Sava, “Maret spoils me to death.”

“I know,” Yuuri says, smiling a little nostalgically, “When I left to go home for awhile, that was one of the most important comforts I had…knowing that he would take care of you while I was gone. I don’t have a problem with keeping them with us, just maybe we should call them personal assistants instead. That’s more like what they are, right?”

“You’re right. They are.”

We leave off talking and move on to Yuuri’s training. Since we’re closing in on the day of the competition, I pick at every little thing, but Yuuri’s motivated to win, so he takes the criticism gracefully and does his very best. We change the jumps in his Eros program to higher scoring ones, now that he has mastered them, then we move on to his free skate, which seems good the way it is.

“You’re doing beautifully with this program,” I compliment him, “I don’t think you need to make any changes.”

We finish his practice with more relaxed ice dancing, then change out of our skates and head back to the house. But two steps out of the rink building, we get bombarded with snowballs and have to dive behind a bush for cover. Laughing and shaking our heads to throw off the bits of snow, we make our own stockpile of snowballs, then engage in a prolonged battle with the others that leaves all of us flushed and breathless by the time we’re done. We stumble back into the cottage, panting and laughing at the sodden mess we’ve made of ourselves. We all adjourn to our rooms to change, then Maret and Sava head to the kitchen to make hot cocoa, while the rest of us settle down in front of a warm fire that Stefan and Filip have made in the fireplace. As the snow begins to fall again outside, we start to watch a movie, but a short time later, the power goes out. We know very well that we could start the generator and get the lights back on, but instead, just like horny teenagers misbehaving, we start to make out on the sofa and on the thick bearskin rug on the floor. We keep at it until we start removing clothing, then we head to our bedrooms.

“What is it about the snow that makes us like this?” Yuuri giggles as I push him up against the bedroom door to close it, then slide my hand into his pants to squeeze his firm, round buttocks while we kiss.

“It’s probably instinct so that we don’t freeze to death,” I suggest, licking his lips, then invading his mouth, “but it also makes sure that our population here in Russia never decreases.”

“Except that we can’t make babies,” Yuuri comments.

I catch just a little hint of sadness in the words and pause to look at him more closely.

“Yuuri, do you think that you would want to raise a child with me someday?” I ask him.

It catches me by surprise that the question doesn’t seem to startle him at all. He does blush, but it seems like it’s more because I caught on to his thinking than that he’s really embarrassed.

“I…I don’t know.”

I take his hands in mine and look into his eyes.

“You realize that if we wanted to do that, it would be best to wait until we retire as skaters, because neither of our home countries will allow us to legally marry or to adopt children. And there would be issues even if we had the help of surrogates to have children biologically ours. We would really need to immigrate to a country more accepting of homosexuality.”

“I know,” he says, in a tone that tells me he’s really been thinking about this.

_Wow, he seems to really want this._

_It would be wonderful, wouldn’t it? I’ve loved Yuuri’s family since I met them. I love the way Yuuri grew up that was so different from the way I did. If we did have children, if we made our own family together, then I would want for our family to be like Yuuri’s._

“You’re looking at me with such a strange expression,” Yuuri says suddenly, interrupting my thoughts, “You don’t like the idea?”

“That’s not it at all,” I laugh, pinching his flushed cheeks and kissing him, “I think it’s a great idea.”

“You do?” he asks, his eyes sparkling.

_Oh yes, this is something my sweet little katsudon has thought deeply about, and has decided he really wants with me._

_So…_

“Of course I do,” I assure him, “Nothing would make me happier than to make a family with my beautiful husband. So, let’s make a promise to do this. When we’re retired from skating, we’ll move somewhere where we can raise a family together.”

Yuuri’s lovely brown eyes well up with a flood of joyful tears.

“That makes me so _happy_ , Victor!” he sobs, hugging me tightly.

“You’re happy?” I tease him gently, “Then, why are you crying, _solnyshko_?”

_When he’s so very happy like this, my squishy, emotional Yuuri is the most adorable thing in the universe!_

“Someday, I want a cute little, roly-poly baby like you were,” I giggle.

“Victor!” he objects, “That’s not nice!”

“What do you mean it’s not nice? Hiroko showed me all of the cute, sweet, adorable baby photos she has of you and Mari. She even gave me one,” I tell him as I nudge him towards the bed.

“What? Which one?” he demands backing towards it as we kiss some more.

“The one with your arms reaching out and you smiling like the sun. Oh, and she gave me this one too!”

I pull my wallet out and show him a copy of a picture of him at four years old, standing with his hands touching the screen of a television that had an image of me as an eight-year-old skating in an international youth talent exhibition.

“I forgot about that one,” he says, touching it with a fingertip.

“I won’t,” I assure him, “I think about it whenever I feel lonely.”

“Victor…” Yuuri whispers, his eyes clouding.

“Don’t be sad about that,” I chide him, “Be happy, because now when I think about how lonely I used to feel, I think that all of that time when I was lonely and feeling like everyone looked at me, but nobody really saw me, there was someone who was seeing me the whole time…and someday that little lonely boy I was, was going to meet this person who really looked at him and loved him.”

_Damn, now I really made him cry, but at least they’re happy tears again. I like seeing joy in Yuuri’s eyes. He gets so anxious about things all of the time. There need to be more beautiful, fun times like these to make him smile and laugh._

“Yuuri, stop it.”

“I didn’t know you kept pictures of me in your wallet!” he half-laughs, half-cries.

“You keep a million posters of me. Why does it surprise you that I would want pictures of you?”

“I…I don’t know,” he stammers, blushing brightly, “You look like you belong on posters for people to look at. I…well, I never felt like people would want to look at me like that.”

I give him a skeptical look.

“You must not have been looking at the skater magazines you and I have been posing for all season, because you look hot in your Eros costume. They made posters of that.”

“Yeah, I guess, but…”

“But what? You’re sexy as hell in that costume, and when I see you dressed for your free skate, I want eat you up!”

“Well, you’re kind of biased.”

I have to laugh and shake my head at that.

“Have you completely missed the squealing fans who cheer and call out to us every time we go to a competition?”

“I thought that was more about you than me,” he says self-consciously.

“Don’t be silly,” I snicker, “My cute little piggy is also a very, very sexy Eros. Don’t think I haven’t noticed the girls lusting after you, right along with me. You know, we were voted Teen Skater Magazine’s cutest couple for the fourth straight month! That’s a record.”

“Oh my god! You actually read that thing?” he manages, laughing helplessly, “That’s so funny!”

“Why?” I tease him, “You read it. Where did you get all of those savory posters of me, eh?”

“Victor!”

“You know, most girls who have a collection of posters of me like that only wish I’d come to life and fall in love with them. You had it really happen. You should be happier, Yuuri.”

“I am happy!” he laughs, rubbing his eyes.

“I’ll tell you what,” I say, grabbing my cell phone, “You and I will pose for pictures that we will never show anyone else. Here, take a picture of me. What do you want me to do for your secret, _limited to one_ edition private poster?”

He thinks quietly for a moment, then smiles.

“I think I want a selfie of the two of us,” he decides, “with Victor saying something loving into my ear.”

“Not naked?” I giggle.

“No, not naked. Just you and me like this with you whispering something loving in my ear.”

“Okay,” I say, considering, “I’ve got it.”

I hold the phone in position and whisper into his ear, touching the record button so that I can get his whole reaction and take snapshots of each moment.

“Something no one knows about me is that…I never dreamed of being famous. I dreamed of being in a normal family. So…what I was really dreaming of and wanting all of my life, is what we are going to have someday…together. _Only you_ are giving me my dream come true.”

_Damn it!_

_I made him cry again._

_But, at least they are happy tears._


	36. Facing That Dark Place

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Victor comes closer to a final decision about his rehabilitation.

Our last day at the mountain cottage begins quietly. Yuuri is in a deep sleep and his naked body is all tangled up with mine after a very hot night of lovemaking. With Maccachin sleeping on my feet, it’s hard to wiggle free, but with a little work, I manage it. I take my time in the shower, closing my eyes and feeling again that lovely closeness I felt all night with him. His arms felt so good all wrapped around me, and his kisses were so delicious! It’s like I can still smell his scent all over me.

Oh wait…he’s here!

“What are you doing up so early?” I laugh as he wraps himself around me and starts kissing my neck, “Not that I mind, but you’ve got to be tired after all of that savory lovemaking, right?”

“A little,” he giggles, “but the bed was too cold without you.”

“Oh,” I say, narrowing my eyes, “don’t you try to get me to skip practice, just so that you can get ahead of me on training.”

“I just want to see Victor skate,” he says adoringly, “I can just watch you warm up if you want to skate alone.”

“No, you are welcome to come and watch me skate…anytime you want to,” I assure him, “You make it even more of a pleasure for me.”

“I do?” he asks, looking tickled at the idea.

“You do,” I insist, “Do you mind washing my back for me, _solnyshko_? I love the way your hands feel when you do that.”

“Oh, sure,” he answers, picking up the soap and a washcloth.

There really is no feeling better than Yuuri running his soapy hands all over my shoulders and back, working up a thick lather and using his fingernails gently on my slicked flesh. I press my hands against the wall of the shower, arching my back like a cat as he works, practically purring like one, too, because it feels so amazing. It proves beyond a doubt that there are non-sexual touches that are every bit as satisfying as sexual ones, and that there is such a thing as complete bliss doesn’t require orgasm.

Of course, I have no problem at all, not even after us making love more than a few times last night, when he slips a hand around my waist and pleasures me that way too. I don’t know if it’s the cold up here in the mountains, the fresh, unspoiled air or maybe the fact that Yuuri and I are up here dancing so seductively in front of each other every day. Whatever it is, there seems no end to my stamina when it comes to being aroused by him, feeling that aggressive need to be as close as is physically possible with him. To wrap all of my senses around him and enjoy every inch of him, to feel him return my affections wholeheartedly? Oh my god, I don’t think I ever knew that before with anyone.

Just my cute, wonderful quirky Japanese beauty, who has fully blossomed now from my head over heels crush to my lifelong obsession. I had no idea when I helped this sweet little piggy transform into a prince, that he would be _my_ prince.

_I feel so very lucky._

_Can we just stay right here, like this_?

We linger in the shower for a long time, and when we get out and dry off, I push him back onto the bed and wrap myself around him, clinging to him shamelessly. Where me being so much like that used to fluster him, he eats it up now. I guess it’s just how comfortable we’ve gotten with each other. Where Yuuri used to seem intimidated by the fact I can’t keep my hands off of him, he’s grown fond of being kissed, tickled, caressed and stroked to within an inch of his life. And he responds with the touches he has learned I love. I actually have a fetish for him to leave love marks in places I can steal secret looks at during the day. Little bite marks made by my lover are a constant reminder that I’m never, ever alone, no matter how lonely I may sometimes feel, or how far apart we may have to be sometimes.

“Victor, aren’t you supposed to be practicing?”

“I’m too busy enjoying you,” I giggle, tickling him under the chin, “You’re like a cute, very horny little bunny and you taste better than hot spiced cider.”

“I don’t know,” he chuckles, “Hot spiced cider is pretty delicious. But seriously, you should get to practicing. We’re going home today, right?”

“Right,” I agree.

And tomorrow, we’ll be off to the World Championships. From Russia, Yurio and I are the two chosen to go. Yuuri is the lone Japanese entry. We’ll see Chris, Phichit, J.J. and Otabek also. It’s going to be an amazing competition.

“I’ll finally get to share the ice with Victor again,” Yuuri sighs contentedly, “I’m really looking forward to that.”

“I am too,” I agree, “All right, then, let’s get moving.”

We dress and have breakfast with the others, then we head over to the rink building. Yuuri and I warm up together, then he and the others watch from rinkside as I run through my short and long programs (I leave out the fifth quad, but I practice my quads separately too, so I won’t neglect them.). They go very smoothly now, and I can see in Yuuri’s dark, appreciative eyes that he no longer has any doubts about my readiness to compete with him. During his practice, he too shows in every turn, every spin, every jump that the confidence I have in him is well placed. We finish by having the others join us for a final ice dance, before we go back to the house and pack our things. Yuuri and I cuddle in the back seat of the car as Maret and Sava drive us back to Saint Petersburg. We arrive at home, and I feel a little touch of sadness that the last time I was here, I was completely miserable.

I don’t feel that at all now.

I mean, honestly, in the back of my mind, I know that I have an important decision I have to make about my rehabilitation, and that is going to impact both Yuuri and me profoundly, because it may separate us for awhile again. But…if it is what we need to keep the beautiful love that we’ve grown between us, then yes, I will leave him for awhile if I have to.

“Victor?”

I blink and realize that I was standing just inside the doorway and staring at the inside of the house.

“Do you want to soak in the hot tub?” I ask Yuuri.

“We just bathed this morning,” Yuuri giggles.

“Not for bathing. I just want to soak with you.”

“Okay,” he agrees readily.

We say our goodbyes for now to Stefan and Maret, although Stefan and I step aside for a moment to exchange a few private words.

“I will see you at the hotel tomorrow,” Stefan says, touching my arm, “I think you’ve been looking well, and I look forward to hearing what your decision will be. I think you should know that you are putting up a capable fight against your addiction. And with some intervention, I know you will be successful. You have a lot of support.”

“I know I do,” I acknowledge, “and maybe that’s what I fear most about taking the inpatient option. I am worried that being alone, being without them is going to be too difficult for me. I can be confident about most things, but being locked up and alone…”

“Victor, I showed you around the facility that first day you came for intake,” he reminds me, “It isn’t a prison. It is a place for recovery.”

“But I won’t even get to speak to my family, to Yuuri, for an entire week if I go there. I don’t know how I will be, wondering if they are all right, and not knowing what is happening.”

“I understand that worry,” he acknowledges, “The brief isolation from everyone and everything is meant to help you adjust to the new environment and schedule. I assure you that, first, we will be sensitive to your needs. We will make sure that if there is a need for you to be in contact with your loved ones, they can reach out to you in emergencies. And you will be very busy setting the parameters for your treatment.”

“Don’t you do that?” I ask him, “Isn’t that why you asked me a billion questions and looked over every inch of me?”

“Well, that’s part of the reason. It’s going to help me to offer you the program that fits your needs the best. But you will have the ultimate choice about how you need to approach your struggle for sobriety. It’s something very personal that you need to really commit yourself to, if you want to succeed.”

“And you honestly think that the very best option for me is to be in the inpatient program?”

“You lead a high activity, high pressure life,” he explains, “There are many temptations in your environment, and at the times you become vulnerable to relapse, you have plenty of places to find alcohol, as well as a physical and mental attachment to doing so. I think the clean environment in the recovery center is best for giving you a chance to step away from everything and focus clearly on what is happening in your body and your mind when you choose to drink. You seem to have a clear understanding that this is a choice you are making, and you are responsible for that choice. We need to move forward from there to thinking things through and altering the choice you make when stress on your body and/or mind and emotions increases.”

“I promise you I am thinking about it,” I tell him sincerely, “I am just not ready to give an answer yet.”

“I understand,” he assures me, “It’s a big decision for you, and it will impact a lot of people you are close to. I know you worry, too, about confidentiality. It’s a legitimate concern, but we will make an honest effort to allow you to recover in privacy.

“I’m sure you will. You’ve never, in the time I’ve known you, given me any reason to doubt you or anything you say. And it really helps me to know you’ve been through something like what I am going through. It’s just that it’s a long time to be away from my family, my friends, my skating. I basically have to drop everything and…do this.”

“Yes,” he says, looking into my eyes, “but think of it this way. If this was a physical injury you had a choice about healing…”

“I would do whatever I had to.”

“Yes, and if it was a physical illness, you would take a doctor’s advice. It seems harder for patients to look at alcoholism, which is both a physical and an emotional illness, in the same light.”

“Hmm, it does make sense when you put it that way. I will take what you’ve said to heart and make it a part of my decision.”

“And I will respect whatever decision you make and do my best to help you.”

We exchange a warm hug, then I go back into the house and sink down into the hot tub that Yuuri has filled with hot water and bubbles for us. We’re both quiet for awhile, but finally, he breaks the silence.

“You and Stefan were out there talking for quite awhile,” he comments.

I give him a little nod and lean into his shoulder, breathing slowly.

“He wants to be sure that I think everything through. He seems sure that the option he thinks is best is a sixty day inpatient program.”

“Sixty days?” Yuuri repeats, looking a little thrown, “I thought that he said it was thirty days.”

“It was, in his first estimation,” I agree, “but in the time since, he’s rethought that, and now he seems to think that the longer time would be beneficial.”

“And what do you think about that?” he asks.

_He looks as scared as I feel._

“I’m terrified of being in that place,” I confess to him, “but it’s not because I think anyone will be bad to me. I just…ever since I was hospitalized after Modya almost killed me, I’ve been terrified of places that feel like a hospital. I’m afraid of being confined and locked up, away from everyone I know and care about. I’ll be scared while I’m in there that something bad will happen out here, and I won’t be there. There are a lot of things about this that make me feel afraid, but at the same time, Stefan has been perfectly reliable. He’s been completely supportive. He’s been honest with me, and he knows me. It’s not like that first day, when I felt like he didn’t understand. Now, I know he does, and even though I’m still afraid, I do feel like he may be right about this, Yuuri.”

Yuuri takes a long, shaky breath.

“I think he may be right too,” he agrees, “I just…feel scared about you leaving. I don’t want anything bad to happen to you in there. I trust Stefan also, but I’m still going to be worried. Yet, if it’s what you need to get well, then you should listen to Stefan and do what he says.”

“I know,” I sigh, closing my eyes and clinging to Yuuri tightly, “It’s just not easy to make a decision like this that means I’ll be away from you again.”

“Only really for a week,” he reminds me, “Then, I can visit you on weekends. And didn’t Stefan say that you would come home on some weekends later?”

“Maybe, if I am doing well.”

“Well, that’s something that makes it a little easier, right?”

He hugs me back and kisses me on the cheek.

“I know that whatever you choose, you’re going to try really hard, and you’re going to do well. You’ve got a lot of people supporting you, and you’re a strong person. You’ve more than proven that.”

I have to smile at that.

“Thank you, Yuuri. It’s good to feel you have confidence in me.”

“Sure I do,” he says, smiling sadly, “You were strong for me, while I was learning to be strong, myself. You can do this.”

“I hope so,” I whisper into his ear, “I love you. I don’t ever want to do anything to ruin what we have. I want to marry you, and someday, I want to raise children with you, Yuuri. After I retire from skating professionally, I think I’d like to build a skating school and we can run it together, somewhere where we can be married and have a family. I think about that every day now.”

“Me too,” he answers, blushing, “I think about it all of the time.”

“We’ll focus on that,” I say reassuringly, “then, whatever happens, we’ll work in that direction.”

“So…you think you’re going to do the inpatient program?” he asks.

My heart starts racing and I feel a little weak just thinking about it.

“I don’t know,” I answer honestly, burying my face in his shoulder, “I want to say yes. I want to be strong enough to do that, but I don’t know yet if I can. I have to think about it more.”

“Okay,” he says patiently, “I know you’ll make a good decision. I trust you, Victor.”

“Good. That means a lot.”

We’re quiet after that. There is a lot to think about. There is a mental jump I have to make before I’m ready to confront that question of what I will do. There is so much riding on whatever I decide. I have to make a good decision. But even if it is a good decision, leaving Yuuri will be a hard decision to make, even if it is for a relatively short time. I hate being away from him for a minute. And this will be two months.

Who knows what will happen in those two months?

Who knows what I will be like when I come home again?

For most of my life, I have controlled the decisions I’ve made. This would be relinquishing control of my entire life for sixty days.

_Can I do that?_

The question is haunting, and the time is coming when I will have to give my answer.


	37. Ice Battle

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The World Championships begin.

Before the beginning of the World Championship competition, there is a much anticipated interview that takes place just after the morning’s public practice. For that interview, Yurio, Yuuri and I are strategically placed at front and center, making clear that the expectations for us are high. Normally, this kind of thing would set off Yuuri’s anxiety, but for the moment, he remains calm and quiet at my side. The other senior male skaters sit, arranged around us. Morooka and my old skating friend, Stephan Lambiel, sit in chairs diagonally placed to the front and side of Yuuri and Yurio. A tech person quickly prepares us for the interview, then the red light comes on and the fun begins.

“Welcome!” Morooka says, smiling widely, “Welcome everyone to the World Figure Skating Championships. Tonight, the men appearing here will take part in what is expected to be an epic battle between a talented set of experienced male skaters and an upcoming group of very talented challengers. In the first group, I don’t think this man beside me needs any introduction. He is known as a living legend in the figure skating world, and although he has been on hiatus coaching skater, Yuuri Katsuki this season, and was seriously injured in the European Championships and forced to withdraw, he won the Russian National competition again this year and, according to Coach Yakov Feltsman, is competition ready. Please welcome Russia’s Prince of the Ice, Victor Nikiforov!”

The gathered audience applauds loudly, then when it tapers off, Stephan takes over.

“Next to Victor, we have Russian rising star Yuri Plisetsky, whose world record short program was choreographed by Victor, and Yuuri Katsuki, for whom Victor has been acting as coach and choreographer. Without a doubt, Victor, you are having a huge impact as skater, coach and choreographer on this year’s competitions. Can you tell us, what made you decide to extend your reach into choreography and coaching for Yuri Plisetsky and Yuuri Katsuki?”

“Well, in Yurio’s case,” I say, making Yurio cringe and scowl by using the nickname Mari gave him, “I had made a promise to him long ago…”

“Yeah,” he grumbles, “that you completely forgot!”

“I did not forget,” I snicker, “Well, in any case, you reminded me. And the deal was, that if he won the Junior World Championships using no quads, then I would choreograph a program for his senior debut.”

“Ah yes,” says Morooka, “the Agape program.”

“Right. I think we can agree that it really brought out Yurio’s flexibility, agility and beautiful jumping style.”

“It sure did,” Stephan agrees, “It’s no wonder he was able to pull off a world record score with a program of that difficulty and composition.”

“Hey, I’m the one who performed it!” Yurio snaps.

“And you did it so well,” I gush.

“It doesn’t bother you that his score eclipsed your own world record for the men’s singles short program?” Morooka asks.

“Of course it does,” I answer honestly, “and that is exactly why I’m glad that I made the program for him.”

“What?” Morooka queries, looking confused, “Why would you want someone…actually two people to surpass your world records?”

“I know it’s a little surprising,” I laugh, “but I see it like this. I am currently the best skater in the world, and I got to be the skater I am by being constantly challenged to improve. While I was outscoring opponents by wide margins, I wasn’t being challenged, and that meant I had little motivation to grow as a skater. It was really bothering me as I ended last season.”

“And you felt that these two skaters held the kind of promise that you wanted in competitors?” Stephan asked.

“Exactly,” I affirm, “In Yurio, I saw potential, but he needed to nail down his basics…”

“Hey, I dod not!” Yurio snaps.

“..and he needed to develop his own particular flair. Agape is a very complex program that demands precise timing and footwork as well as leaving room for creative interpretation. Through his hard work this season, Yurio did what he needed to do, and he very much earned that world record.”

“And what about skater Katsuki?” Morooka asks, “Was it the viral video that convinced you to work with him?”

“It was,” I answer, nodding, “but it was also that I already had a little knowledge about Yuuri from last year’s Grand Prix Final…especially the banquet, where I got to know Yuuri a little better.”

I can see Yuuri practically cringing in his chair at the mention of the banquet, and a few seats over, Yurio and Chris are both snickering into their hands.

“At the banquet Yuuri _mentioned_ an interest in new coaching, and when I saw the viral video of him skating my free program, I knew that it was no mistake. I wanted very much to bring out his best qualities. He is an amazing skater with great potential.”

“As he showed in the Grand Prix Finals this year with that world record free skate,” Morooka says approvingly.

Out of the corner of my eye, I spot Yurio’s angry face and can read his thoughts.

_Why the hell do they talk more about the pork cutlet bowl’s stupid silver medal and not about the fact I goddamned WON the Grand Prix Finals???_

“Well, let’s get to you,” Stephan says, placing a hand on mine, “Coach Feltsman said that he thinks you are competition ready.”

“And it’s probably the nicest thing he said to me before this interview,” I joke, making laughter sound all around.

“Do you think you are ready?”

I give him a confident nod.

“I have had medical treatment and I’ve trained hard, both getting myself back to full strength and refining my short and free skate programs. I have no doubt that I am bringing everything to the competition tonight. I’ve been feeling deeply motivated by Yurio, Yuuri and all of the other skaters here. I have some surprises planned for the competition.”

“We look forward to seeing them!”

The interview moves on to focus, first on Yuuri and Yurio, then on several of the other skaters in attendance with us. When it ends, Yuuri and I head to our hotel, where Yakov and my mother have invited us to their room for lunch.

“You sounded too cocky in that interview,” Yakov scolds me, “for someone who ran off and had no coaching.”

“I kept in touch with you by video!” I complain, “Lots of skaters do that when they’re away from their coaches. And I needed the high altitude practice and privacy. You think I want people knowing what I’m doing to do to surprise them tonight?”

“What _are_ you doing to surprise them?” he asks, “Don’t you think at least I should know?”

“No,” I answer, earning a scowl and a huffed breath from him, “I don’t.”

After lunch, Yuuri and I head back to our room, where we give each other a relaxing rub down, then dress and prepare mentally for the short program.

“You are going to be great,” I tell him as I rub almond oil into his back and shoulders, “Just skate like you have been and you will do well.”

“You’re going to be great too,” he tells me, sitting up as I finish the massage, “Victor, I feel really bad that I ever doubted you.”

“It’s fine,” I tell him, “I was upset before, but then I just remembered that if you have low expectations, it only means that I can do a better job of surprising you, and anyone else who doubts me.”

“I don’t doubt you now,” he promises, watching as I lay down on my belly, then running warm, oiled hands over my body, “You’ve looked great in practice. I’m going to have to work really hard to beat you tonight.”

“I know you’ll give me a good challenge,” I chuckle, “I’m looking forward to it.”

“Me too.”

Time passes quickly, and before we know it, it’s time to walk down to the ice rink. Maret and Sava walk on either side of us and Stefan is at my shoulder too. Yakov and my mother walk off to one side, and as we enter the skating arena, Mother stops me to give me a hug.

“I’m so glad that I finally get to be here in person to see you skate again!” she says, sniffing, “I know you’ll make your father and me proud.”

“I promise I’ll do my best,” I tell her.

Yakov guides her to where families are sitting in a private area of the stands, then he goes with Yurio, Yuuri and me to the skater preparation area. I half listen for a few minutes as he growls out some last minute instructions to Yurio and me, then I take Yuuri a little away from the others to warm up.

“We’re all performing in the last group,” I tell him, “How are you feeling so far?”

“Oh, fine,” he tells me, giving me a little nod of confirmation.

I look at him closely to be sure. He’s usually pretty collected before his short programs, and that seems to be true this time as well.

“I want you to close your eyes for a moment,” I tell him.

As soon as his eyes are closed, I embrace him and whisper into his ear.

“This is the moment that you and I have been working towards over the past year. You told me that you promised yourself that you were going to skate on the same ice as me again, and tonight, you will. While you are out there, I want you to know that I will be watching you. And this time, I will not just be watching as your coach, I will be watching as your competitor. I will notice any mistakes that you make and I will try to capitalize on that when I skate my program. We both need to put in our strongest performances tonight…you, to show everyone how right I was in devoting the season to training you, and me, to show everyone that I am still Victor Nikiforov, the skating legend they remember.”

“I promise I will give you my very best,” Yuuri says softly in reply, “Good luck out there, Victor. It’s a privilege sharing the ice with you tonight.”

“It is a privilege sharing the ice with you,” I answer, squeezing him tightly and giving him a long kiss, “Best of luck to you, Yuuri.”

We head out to the six minute warmup when our group is called, then we watch as the skaters before us put in their performances. Yuuri is one of the last three to skate, and he makes me proud with the performance he gives by earning a new personal best. He truly radiates Eros now, and his score shows the worthiness of that performance. Yurio gives him an evil look as Yuuri scores dangerously close to his world record score. Yurio’s performance is also exemplary, and he just barely holds a little lead over Yuuri as I am called to the ice.

I take a slow breath and as I skate out to center ice, I think of everything that has happened in the past year…the long break I took to coach Yuuri, the struggles I’ve had with alcoholism and the help that Stefan has offered me. I think of the awful memories that returned to me and the revelation of the longstanding lies about my parents. I think of my mother sitting in the stands, finally free to watch and be proud of her younger son. I think of my brother and sister and their families, who are watching from their homes. I remember the friendships that I have made in my years as a professional skater, and the love I have experienced that has changed my life. I really couldn’t ask for more than I have now.

As I take my beginning position, I know that I am lucky to be here, to be here now, and to be with the people who love me. It’s for all of them and for me, I will give my very best to my skating. When the music begins, I bury myself in those emotions and bring it all to the ice.

I recall, as I skate the beginning, the innocent lies that people have told…my mother’s lie that nothing happened when my father left her on the side of a cold, snowy road, the lie my parents told, saying that I was Modya’s child to protect my mother and to hold back Modya’s jealous anger. I consider too, the innocent lies I told myself.

_Alcohol isn’t bad like other drugs._

_I can control my drinking. It’s not a problem._

The thoughts and emotions bleed into my expressions and the movement of my feet and I hear sounds of applause as I perform what I hear an announcer’s voice call an _inspired performance_.

_“This is a vast improvement on what we saw of his short program in both the Russian Nationals and in his short program before he was forced to withdraw from the European Championships,” Morooka says, “Victor explained to me before the competition that while coaching Yuuri Katsuki, he has studied Katsuki’s very distinctive ability in the step sequence. It seems that Nikiforov has taken what he learned and improved his own performance quite notably here.”_

_“I have to agree with you,” Stephan adds, “I have known Victor for a very long time, and I know he has struggled before to bring life and vibrance to his step sequence. This program highlights the tremendous step he’s taken forward in that area.”_

I move into the second half of the performance and land my triple axel cleanly. I follow with a quad lutz, and a short time later, a quad flip, quad toe loop combination. I finish with a complicated combination spin that has the audience applauding all the way through, and it continues long after the music ends. I take a deeper, more relaxed breath, now that I am done, and it’s then that I see people on their feet and cheering loudly. I skate to the kiss and cry and Yakov gives me a grudging look of approval. Yuuri runs in and grabs me in a bear hug. Yurio looks like he wants to kill me.

“You were amazing! You looked so good out there,” Yuuri says, all smiles.

“That was a surprisingly good performance,” Yakov adds gruffly, “especially since you had so little coaching.”

“I told you I was sorry about that.”

“Did you notice that Mirra is crying?”

“What?”

I start to get up, but Yakov tugs me back down again.

“Where are you going? Stay here! Yuuri is going to her. She’ll be fine. I just wanted you to see that you made an impression. I think your score will be a good one.”

_But, if I’m honest with myself, I have to wonder if it will be enough to get ahead of Yuuri and Yurio. I created two skating monsters, didn’t I?_

My heart skips as the scores post, then I breathe a little sigh of relief and surprise Yakov with a crushing hug.

_“I think everyone here came with high expectations for these three magnificent skaters. And each of them have risen to the challenge, putting in inspired performances that have won them high scores from the judges,” Morooka says approvingly, “Nikiforov’s score puts him scant hundredths of a point ahead of Plisetsky and Katsuki. We have a fierce battle on our hands, and we’ll have to wait for the free skate to see which of these amazing men will take home the gold!”_

All of a sudden, as it sets in that the competition is over for tonight, I feel really, really tired. I yawn as I slip my skater sweater on over my costume and join Yakov, Yurio and Yuuri to walk out. My mother meets us just outside the skater’s preparation area and she’s still wiping her eyes.

“You were incredible, Vitya!” she whispers, tears coming to her eyes again, “I’m so proud of you!”

“I waited a long time to skate for you,” I sigh, embracing her, “Thank you for being here.”

“I will always be here for you now, my boy,” she sobs softly into my shoulder, “You can have faith in that!”

“I do.”

We’ve planned to go out to eat, but all of the traveling and the pressure of the competition have stolen all of my energy.

“Yuuri, you should still go out with Mother and Yakov,” I urge him, “I’m not going to be good company, just falling asleep on you.”

“You don’t have to entertain me,” he laughs, kissing me on the cheek, “I’ll be happy holding you while you sleep.”

“At least you should eat,” I argue.

“You should too,” he scolds me, “The free skate is tomorrow. You need to eat to keep your energy up.”

“Ah, okay, I’ll order in.”

“I’ll eat with you,” he insists.

“It’s fine, Vitya,” my mother giggles, “Yakov and I can go out alone. It’s no crime, and we enjoy each other’s company.”

“Obviously, or I wouldn’t exist,” I whisper in Yuuri’s ear, making him blush.

We take our leave of my parents and walk back to the hotel, where Yuuri does his best to keep me from falling asleep as we wait for room service to arrive with our dinner.

“You know, you’re just so tired because you’re not used to being the one competing,” Yuuri snickers, “Man, no stamina…”

“I never claimed to have great stamina,” I say, yawning, “just great style.”

“I can’t argue with that.”

When our food arrives, I eat enough to win Yuuri’s approval, then I crash and fall into a dreamless sleep for the night, with Yuuri’s naked body curled around me and Maccachin warming our feet. As I drop off, my heart warms and flickers as Yuuri whispers into my ear.

“Goodnight, Victor. You were _amazing_ tonight! I know you’ll make me work my hardest tomorrow to catch up with you.”


	38. Icon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yurio, Yuuri and Victor go head-to-head in an all out battle for dominance in the World Championship free skate.

When I finally wake the next morning, it’s so late that Yuuri is up and gone already and I’m hugging Maccachin instead.

 _Victor_ , a note by the bed reads, _I’ve gone to visit a little with Phichit. Mirra-san came by, but you were sleeping, so I told her you would come by when you wake up. I’ll be back before morning practice._

_Love,_

_Yuuri_

Neither Maccachin nor I really mind. We’ve been separated a lot lately and we’ve missed each other, so some relaxation and catching up is good for us. I lie there, looking out the window and hugging him, laughing and talking to him like I do when we’re alone.

“I must have been sleeping like the dead,” I chuckle, “for Yuuri to be up and gone and I didn’t even stir. Why didn’t you wake me up, silly thing?”

Macca mumbles a canine reply and licks my face.

“Luckily, we have a little time before the morning practice,” I ramble on, sitting up and yawning, “Do you need to go out?”

He knows what _out_ means, so he hops down off of the bed and sits near the door while I put on some sweatpants and a sweatshirt. We head out of the suite and outside, then we stop by Yakov’s room on the way back inside. My mother answers the door and breaks into a happy smile, hugging me.

“Good morning, Vitya!”

She reaches down and pats Maccachin on the head.

“And hello, Maccachin.”

Macca nuzzles her hand and thumps his tail on the floor while I give her a kiss on the cheek.

“Good morning, Mother. Yuuri said that you stopped by earlier.”

I did, but you were still sleeping. That’s late for you.”

“Kind of,” I chuckle, “but I was really tired last night. I’ve been training very hard, and my short program burns up a lot of energy. Of course, if I’m tired after that, I’m going to be half dead after the free program.”

“I’m sure you’ll do well, just like you did yesterday,” she assures me, “Yakov said that it was some of the best skating you’ve ever done.”

I give her a surprised look.

“He said that?”

“Yes,” she insists, “He also said that Yuuri has had a good effect on you. I can also see how happy you make each other. Have you worked on ideas for the wedding yet?”

“Some,” I hedge, “not so much, because it can’t really happen as long as we live in Russia.”

“And why not?” she giggles, curving a palm around my cheek, “What are you waiting for? You promised that lovely boy you would marry him if he won gold. He won gold, so my son is going to keep his promise.”

I give her a weary look.

“You know that’s not allowed here.”

“So, go somewhere else,” she says firmly, “There are places you can marry, even if it isn’t recognized here. Get married there and come back here.”

“But, Yuuri and I were warned not to make a spectacle of our relationship,” I explain, “You know what happened with Yuuri when Andrei caused that trouble for us.”

“So don’t make any public statement,” she advises me, “Take whoever you want with you and marry quietly. We could have a big reception in Japan maybe?”

“It won’t be legal there either,” I sigh, “They just won’t mistreat us for loving each other there.”

“The point is,” she says, taking my hands, “that as long as you and Yuuri don’t make a public statement about it, the government will have no reason to interfere. Let people speculate all they want, and you and Yuuri have the wedding and honeymoon of your dreams.”

“And how will we do that if I spend half of the off season in rehab?” I ask, deflating further, “You know that Stefan has advised me to enter the inpatient program for two months. It will be into May, almost June before I can come home again to stay. Yuuri and I need to prepare for next season.”

“And I’m sure you will. I’m also sure that my son, who dropped everything to coach Yuuri, then made a successful comeback…”

“I haven’t exactly done that yet,” I laugh, “It kind of hinges on tonight.”

“I have no doubt you will perform well tonight. I believe you are going to win. And when you have, take Yuuri and go get married. Plan your honeymoon for after your rehab and I’m sure that a smart boy like you can have the both of you still ready to compete next season. You are such a precocious one, I know you can do this. It…is what you want, isn’t it?”

“Of course it is!” I answer immediately, “I don’t have any doubts about that at all. Yuuri and I both want to be married.”

I feel a little shiver as I add something that only Yuuri and I know.

“We’ve even been talking about adopting or having a child with a surrogate later, after we retire from skating. It means we’ll have to move away from Russia, but…”

I stop because of the beautiful, happy look on her face.

“Vitya!” she says, grabbing me and hugging me crushingly, “That’s wonderful!”

“Well, we’re not there yet,” I laugh nervously, “I still have a few years left as a professional skater, and Yuuri will have a few beyond that.”

“Oh, I don’t know about that,” she giggles, “I have a feeling that he will want to leave with you.”

I give my head a shake.

“He shouldn’t do that, just because of me.”

“Why not, if that’s his choice?” she asks pointedly, “I don’t know Yuuri Katsuki as well as you do, but I already know that he loves you even more than he loves skating. Why else would he have been ready to give up skating and let you go, just to make you return to skating, something he knew you love to do?”

“Well,” I admit, coloring a little, “at the time, I actually thought it was because he didn’t love me enough.”

“I hope you know how wrong you were.”

“Oh, I do,” I say ruefully, “But my stupidity then put me where I am now…just a step away from rehab and really wishing that I’d made a different choice that night.”

“Do you really think that would have been a better thing?” she asks, taking my hands in hers, “Vitya, you would still be an alcoholic, even if you hadn’t lost control that night. And if you hadn’t had your eyes opened then, something worse could have happened.”

I flinch as I think about Stefan’s wife and lost child.

“I see you understand,” she goes on, squeezing my hands, then letting them go.

Her eyes grow troubled and I can see that she’s thinking about Modya.

“Alcoholism is a terrible disease, Vitya,” she says, her voice quiet and calm, but I can hear the pain beneath it, “I think that maybe if it wasn’t for that, Modya and I could have worked on his feelings of resentment and anger, or at least, we could have avoided the years of abuse we all suffered.”

Her eyes aren’t just sad. She looks guilty.

“I’m sorry that I stayed with him so long…that I chose to send you away instead of having the courage to take you, Servil and Irishka and run from him.”

“Don’t blame yourself for that.”

“I have to,” she insists, “I didn’t just stay with him. I lied to keep him from being arrested when he almost killed you.”

“You were afraid of what he would do to the rest of you,” I remind her, “I was safe after that. I was protected by Yakov.”

“But your brother and sister and I were not,” she says angrily, “Because I wasn’t strong enough to walk away and accept your father’s protection, Modya went too far. Maybe if I’d left, he would have given up. Maybe he wouldn’t have had to die like he did.”

“No, you know he wouldn’t have given up. He wasn’t just an alcoholic. He was a vile, hateful person.”

“I wish you’d known him like he was before, when he came to see me dance. He was so charming, so kind to me. He was a completely different person, Vitya. I don’t know if that was just not real or if maybe it was, but being with me put him under too much pressure to be better than he was.”

“You can’t blame yourself for that!” I argue, “Whatever happened, he made the choice to put his hands on you in violence. He did the same to me, to Servil and to Irishka. You saw him try to murder me in front of you. If he had lived, he would still be trying to hurt us.”

She gives me a sad smile and kisses me gently on the cheek.

“Perhaps you are right. Anyway, the past is done. I will make you a deal. I will let go of mine if you promise me you will let go of yours. Stop second guessing yourself and realize that rehab is not a punishment for you, it is an opportunity. Right now, alcohol has its way with you, even if only sometimes. The more you wait, the more control it will have.”

_I know she’s right, but…_

“Let’s stop this for now. I know you have to go and practice for tonight.”

“I do.”

“Go on, then. Find Yuuri and have a wonderful time tonight. I know you’re looking forward to this competition.”

I walk back to my room, leaving Maccachin to visit with her, and I find Yuuri in the room, already dressed for practice and looking out the balcony doors with a troubled expression. I walk up behind him and wrap my arms around him, kissing him below the earlobe.

“Good morning, Yuuri,” I say cheerfully, “Did you enjoy your visit with Phichit?”

“Yeah,” he says, but I hear a half-heartedness to the words, “We had breakfast together. I hope you don’t mind.”

“Why would I mind?” I chuckle, nuzzling him, “I slept pretty late, then Maccachin and I visited with my mother for awhile. I kept myself busy.”

“Did you eat something?” he asks.

“No, I think I’ll wait until after practice.”

“Are you sure?” he asks uncertainly, “It’s the free program today…”

“I’m fine. Stop fretting.”

“I’m not fretting,” he says, pulling free of me and sitting down on the bed.

I sit down beside him, looking at him and waiting while he tries to find the right words.

“I just…didn’t like some of the things that people were saying, that’s all.”

“What kind of things?”

_I think I already know._

“Just…about…”

He stops and wrings his hands, nervously.

“Go on,” I prompt him, “or no, let me. They are talking about how stars rise and fall in the skating world. They are talking about how high my star has risen in the past years, but they speculate I have reached the highest point I can, and that it’s great that I am embracing the idea of helping others who are destined to climb higher.”

“V-victor!” he sobs, “Stop it. I don’t like hearing that!”

“I know,” I answer, grabbing him and hugging him tightly, “I know, Yuuri, and it really doesn’t bother me.”

“But, it bothers _me_! I want to compete with you, but I don’t want everyone acting like it’s some kind of changing of the guards or something! It’s like they’ve forgotten who you are.”

“Maybe so,” I say, capturing him by the chin and narrowing my eyes, “but then, all that means to me is that I have a chance to remind them. It’s a challenge, Yuuri.”

“But…”

“No matter what anyone says, there is only one person who will decide when I am done,” I tell him sternly, “That person is me. I promise you, I am not done yet. I will bring everything to the ice tonight, and I want you to also.”

“B-but, I don’t want to be the one t-to…!”

“Do you really think that beating me tonight will make me quit?” I scold him gently, “Think again, _Solnyshko_. If you beat me, I will only work that much harder to win when we compete next season. I don’t care if I win or you win, or if Yurio wins. I love skating, and I will skate my best and accept the outcome, whatever it is. You need to do the same. Now, you promise me that you will try your hardest to beat everyone, tonight, including me.”

He still looks pale as I wipe his tears away, but he nods.

“Okay.”

“Okay, what?”

“Okay, I promise.”

He’s quieter than usual through our morning practice and he hurries out before he can be interviewed. I take my time and answer the reporters’ questions, acknowledging the advances that Yurio and Yuuri have made all season. And the question comes up…the one that Yuuri was dodging when he escaped earlier.

“So, now that you have proven yourself as a coach and choreographer, are you planning to retire and pursue those things full-time?”

I give the offending man a bright smile and a wink.

“Don’t rush me. I’ll get there, but right now, I am just laying groundwork. I love skating, and I still have much to offer the sport as a skater. When the time comes, it’s good to know I am covered, but win or lose, I will remain a figure skater for as long as my body holds out…and I plan for that to be awhile. Besides, now that Yurio and Yuuri are challenging me, I think it will keep me motivated to continue growing. I know that some are speculating that my star has reached its zenith, but I question that. I’ll do my best to prove that I can go higher.”

I can see that I haven’t convinced everyone, but I’ve made a good impression. I leave them still asking questions and walk back to the hotel, where I find Yuuri waiting with lunch in our room.

“What are you doing, holing up in here?” I tease him, “You should be enjoying this more.”

“Sorry,” he says ruefully as I sit down with him to eat, “you’re right. I just…before we go out there, I want to tell you that I love skating with you. I love it so much that, even though I’m feeling worried about what people were saying about you, I’m going to take your advice and just not listen. I’m going to go out there and do my best, and whatever happens, I’m glad we’re both here together. I want this to last as long as possible. I’ve waited all of my life to be able to compete with you, and now, I finally can.”

“You’ll do great,” I say, hugging him, “No matter who wins, I’m sure we’ll stand on the podium for the first time together, and that makes me so happy!”

“Me too!”

The afternoon passes quickly, and before we know it, it’s time to dress in our costumes, and to make the final walk down to the venue. The streets are lined with people who cheer and call our names as we walk past. We enter the arena and security personnel escort us to the skater preparation area. There are still several groups who will perform before we do, so he have plenty of time to warm up and help each other with stretches.

“Oh Victor, there you are!” Chris calls out, coming over to stretch alongside us, “Where have you and Yuuri been hiding? I barely got to see you in the short program round.”

“It’s been busy,” I laugh, “You did well, qualifying for the last group with us.”

“Eh, it was easy with the ones in the group I was assigned to. I think they insulted me.”

“Well,” says Yuuri, “you’re with us now. I think I speak for both of us when I say that we’ll make sure this last round isn’t boring for you.”

“Oh, I hope so,” Chris gushes, grinning, “I do like to feel challenged.”

“You won’t be challenged,” Yurio scoffs, from where he’s warming up a short distance away, “I’m going to crush you all.”

“Isn’t he so cute?” Chris giggles.

“Well, he did beat the two of us at the Grand Prix Finals,” Yuuri acknowledges, “Still, Victor’s competing tonight.”

“It’s not going to matter,” Yurio growls, “I’m taking the gold.”

“Are you kidding me?” J.J. laughs, heading into the room to join us, “There’s no way, even with your four quads that you’re going to beat me. It’s not happening.”

“Huh,” Yurio huffs, “Or maybe you’ll choke, like you did in the short program at the Grand Prix Finals!”

“Old news,” J.J. says, holding up a hand in Yurio’s face, “You’d just better be ready for a bruising out there. You’re going down.”

“I think you have more than Yuri to worry about,” Otabek says, looking over from Yurio’s other side.

“What? You mean, poor ancient and had to drop out of his last competition, Victor? Is that who you mean?”

Although I can see Yurio snarling, he holds back as Otabek answers.

“Victor is a great talent. I’m sure that he will give a performance worthy of his reputation. And you should be worried about that.”

“As if,” J.J. scoffs, “I don’t think an old drunk _has been_ is going to beat me.”

I don’t usually bother with idiots spouting off like that, but I don’t like the way Yuuri is reacting, so I move to stand face-to-face with him and he laughs again as I glare into his mocking eyes.

“Then, prepare to be very, very surprised,” I purr in my sexiest voice, smiling wickedly and patting him on the face, making his jaw drop in shock, “Come Yuuri, we’ll be warming up soon.

I keep Yuuri away from the others until the six minute warm up for our group, then I take him to the far end of the rink, where we prepare for our performances.

“Are you all right?” I ask.

“Yeah,” Yuuri says softly, “I’m going to destroy him.”

“Good,” I chuckle, patting him on the shoulder, “I will too.”

_I’m glad that J.J.’s rudeness got him a little angry, so that he’s not feeling nervous._

“Do you want to go for a walk after this?” I ask him.

“No, I’m watching them.”

_Good, an aggressive Yuuri is a Yuuri who will stop at nothing._

We skate to the edge of the rink and exit to wait our turn as Otabek takes the ice. His performance looks even better than his Grand Prix Final performance, and he takes the early lead. Chris puts in an exceptional performance as well, but just misses Otabek’s score, putting him in second place. J.J. is J.J., and he sails past Otabek and Chris to take the lead. His score is impressive, but it’s no world record. Yuuri holds that, and he’s skating next. As he prepares to take the ice, I hug him tightly and give him a tender kiss.

“Do your best,” I whisper into his ear.

“I will.”

And from the moment he takes his place on the ice, Yuuri keeps his promise. Every move is precise, every step and turn lovely, and his jumps and spins are dazzling. I feel such pride seeing that look of determination he wears. I feel the confidence and the love that drives his performance, and I don’t want it to end. By the time it does, my eyes are wet, and every person in the arena is on their feet. We meet in the kiss and cry, and both of us are shedding tears and hugging each other as we wait for his score. My heart spills over with love and deep pride as his score is announced.

“Katsuki puts in a stellar performance,” the announcer says excitedly, “and he exceeds his world record score by a few hundredths of a point, setting an even higher bar for fellow skaters, Yuri Plisetsky and Victor Nikiforov. Plisetsky is now on the ice to try to make some history here. Can he win the free skate record too?”

Yurio too, gives his very best to the effort, and the result is a heartbreakingly beautiful performance. But even that isn’t enough to equal Yuuri’s new world record. There is only one person left who has a prayer of doing that.

“Next on the ice is Russian skating legend, Victor Nikiforov, who held a slim lead over Katsuki in the short program. To win, Nikiforov needs to score no less than a point beneath Katsuki’s.”

“A Herculean feat,” a second announcer says, “especially considering that Nikiforov has never scored that high on his free skate before. Still, Nikiforov still holds the world record for the highest overall score, and he has a reputation for surprising everyone. Let’s see what he has in store for us tonight!”

I take my position at center ice, and let out a soft breath, picturing in my mind the beautiful future that Yuuri and I have planned. Not just skating, but everything, a wedding, children and a skating school we can run together. But I feel very much as the music begins, that there is something more I have to do before all of that…and it must happen here…now…tonight.

I feel something beginning in my core and spreading outward, a lightness of being, a well of strength that pours into my body, energizing me through the early combination spin and step sequence. And when I take off into my quad lutz, applause breaks out and sounds of appreciation echo in the arena. I feel almost like the body I’m in has gotten younger, as though it’s the more youthful, limber body I had as a teen. My quad flip sets the crowd on fire, and more applause sounds all around.

“I think if the question was, _Is Victor Nikiforov ready for this challenge?_ we’ve just received our answer!” the announcer calls out, “Two amazing jumps and two more are planned in his program.”

I’m still feeling strong, entering the second half, so I add some flourish to my moves that should add to my PCS score. I take a steadying breath as I head into the quad flip, triple toe loop combination. I can’t help smiling at the fact that Yuuri must have seen by now that the jump combination was a deviation. I’ve landed three quads now, and he knows if I land the quad loop, I’ll be close to catching him. But he doesn’t know that I’ve turned my triple salchow in the next portion to a quad too.

But I have to land the quad loop or I am going to lose.

I gather speed and make the turn, using everything I have to get the right height and rotation. As my body comes around and I land on the ice, a roar rises up.

“A beautiful jump and now he’s got to be closing in on Katsuki. Remember, he doesn’t have to beat Katsuki’s free skate score, just his overall. Will he…?”

The announcer’s voice stops and the arena seems to go silent for a moment as I fly into the quad salchow, triple loop that no one is expecting to see. I’m into the final combination spin by the time it sinks in and the crowd comes to their feet. As I come to a stop, I hear Yuuri sob my name, and I meet him in the kiss and cry, where we hug and kiss rapturously.

“You were incredible!” he says breathlessly, “That was an amazing performance.”

“You did well,” Yakov adds, taking his place beside Yuuri and me as we wait for my scores, “You could possibly win.”

I find myself unable to say anything, because I’m so out of breath. I hold on to Yuuri, my heart pounding and so happy I could melt.

_Win or lose, this was so much fun! I haven’t enjoyed a competition this much…ever!_

My score flashes onto the scoreboard and Yuuri and I take it in, then hug each other tightly again.

“Nikiforov’s free skate score is a personal best, and just shy of Katsuki’s newly set world record score, but it is enough to give the skating legend more than just the gold here tonight. The three men who will stand on the podium tonight will earn Victor Nikiforov an honor unmatched by any skater in history. Tonight, while winning the gold, he has also made a more permanent mark on the skating world as the coach and choreographer of the silver medalist, and choreographer of the bronze medalist.”

“I think we can all agree,” says the second announcer, “that no matter what happens from this day forward, no one will ever forget the name, Victor Nikiforov!”

_The competitions will continue, and in the future, Yurio and Yuuri will beat me sometimes, I know. I’ll still grow too old to skate professionally someday. The clock still ticks in that arena, but there is a new world that has opened up for me. When the time comes, I don’t have to worry. When I can’t compete anymore, I’ll still put my mark on the ones who will. I’ll be coaching and choreographing until I’m an old man._

_It really will be okay now._

_And I’m pleased to see in Yuuri’s happily crying eyes that he knows this too._


	39. When Love Means Letting Go

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Victor makes a final decision about his rehabilitation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! I have decided to write another couple of stories in this series. The first will be a journal that details Victor's rehab stay and after that, I'll continue with a story that covers Victor and Yuuri's wedding and something big that happens after! Stay tuned.
> 
> Thanks so much to everyone who has loved and supported this series!

It’s a week after the conclusion of the World Championships when the time comes for Yuuri and me to say goodbye for awhile. It was the morning after the competition when he and I met privately with Stefan and I gave them my decision.

_“I’ve given this a lot of thought, and it wasn’t an easy decision. But my parents have helped me at different times, and Yuuri has helped me to see that it’s really best if I commit to inpatient therapy for the sixty days.”_

_“Victor…” Yuuri whispers, tearing up._

_“I know it will be hard for you,” I tell Yuuri, keeping my own eyes carefully lowered, “but my mother and father have promised to look out for you. Yakov will be coaching you, just refining your skills until I return to help you with your new programs. You can stay with my parents, or you can stay in our home with Maret and Sava to assist you with anything you need. You’ll be all right, Yuuri. I promise you will.”_

_“What about you?” he whispers, “You were so afraid of going there.”_

_“I still am,” I admit, “but I trust Stefan. He has stood by me when all I did was fail. Just like I stood by you and believed in you, he has been there for me, even when I continued to relapse. I think that a person like that is someone who has my best interests at heart. He is motivated to see me succeed.”_

_I lift my eyes to meet Yuuri’s and find we’re both shedding tears._

_“He’s also told me that I can take Maccachin with me.”_

_“You can?” Yuuri asks, brightening slightly._

_“Yes, he can,” Stefan affirms, “We at the recovery center know that our patients are facing one of the most important fights in their lives. The presence of a pet can help to keep a patient calm and more focused on their healing. We don’t Victor to feel isolated.”_

_“Then, why does he not get to even talk to us for a week?” Yuuri asks, sniffing softly._

_Stefan takes his hand and looks into his eyes as he answers._

_“The blackout period is when Victor will be going through detoxification. It’s also while he will be settling into his new environment. I will be his recovery specialist and there will be a staff doctor or nurse available at all times. We will have Victor’s contact numbers in case of emergency, and of course, you can call us with any concerns or if anything happens that he needs to know about. Victor will be choosing some therapy groups to join and he will be meeting other people who are in the recovery program. After that week, you will be able to call him anytime, and you can visit him on weekends. After the first month, if everything goes well, Victor will be able go home on weekends.”_

_“Okay,” Yuuri manages, but he looks anything but okay._

_“Yuuri, listen to me,” I tell him gently, “While I am gone, I am going to be working on our wedding plans, and I want you to also.”_

_He smiles at that, but tears continue to slide down his face._

_“When I come home, we will be going to Denmark. They are friendly to International couples…homosexual couples. They will marry us, and I’ve already spoken to your parents about a large private reception after, at Yutopia Katsuki. I want you to let this comfort you…that we have this to look forward to, and that when I come back to you, I will be able to be a better husband to you. I will be able to give everything to our union, with nothing holding me back. I will not let alcoholism be a shadow that hangs over us, and comes between us whenever it has its way with me._

_“And I promise,” Stefan says, squeezing Yuuri’s hand, “I will do my very best to support Victor and you through this process. Even when you can’t talk to him, you can call me.”_

_“Thank you,” Yuuri says gratefully, “that means a lot.”_

We returned home after the championships and I took a week to get my affairs in order before taking the painful step of preparing to leave everything behind. Now, Yuuri and I wake up on the morning I’ll be leaving, and we have only a little time before we have to say goodbye. He tries not to cry, but as soon as our eyes meet, we are both fighting back tears.

_God, how am I going to do this?_

_Please help me to be strong for him…for us._

_I have to be able to walk out that door soon, and I have to know he’ll be all right._

“Don’t worry about me,” he says, wiping his eyes, “I’ll be okay.”

“I know you will,” I whisper, kissing him, “You’ve decided to stay here, right?”

“Uh-huh,” he says, nodding, “Sava is going to teach me how to speak and understand Russian, so by the time you get back, I’ll be a little more able to function on my own if I have to go out and do things.”

“It’s good you are doing that,” I say approvingly, “That should keep you pretty busy…that and practicing. Focus on those things, and trust me when I tell you that this is really the best thing for us. We will be a stronger couple because of it.”

“I know. That’s why, even though it’s hard, I’m going to let you go.”

“And I will make the most of this time away from you…to heal myself, to grow stronger and to come back to you, ready to devote the rest of my life to being the best husband to you that I can be.”

“I’ll be the best husband to you that I can be also,” he promises.

“Good. Now we should give each other some final warmth to comfort us.”

There is no Eros in either one of us as we lie down together this time. It is solely Agape, unconditional love that we give in gentle kisses and caresses to each others’ bodies. I know that Yuuri is already imprinted on my mind and my heart, but I take deep breaths of his scent and taste his flesh slowly and soulfully. I memorize every curve and plane and all of the sounds he makes, all of the ways he moves…everything about him. I don’t want to forget anything.

He holds me so tightly, almost desperately, first with his hands, then with his body as I join with him. He doesn’t cry now, but there is a wistfulness about him that tells me how hard he has to work not to. I try to stay calm for him too, making love to him slowly, whispering words of love and commitment into his ear, and trying not to think of how long it will be before we can be together like this again. I surrender with a long, shuddering sigh, filling him with all of my warmth and collapsing onto his chest, lost and utterly spent.

Yuuri runs his fingers through my hair, then open hands down my back. He whispers into my ear how much he loves me, and how he’ll miss me while I’m gone. But there is a hopefulness in his voice that starts to revive me. His brown eyes remain clear and wide and gentle as he turns me onto my back and returns, stroke for stroke, kiss for kiss, touch for touch, the loving care that I gave him. I feel completely helpless in his arms, but I know even then that I am perfectly safe there. I only wish that I never had to leave them.

_Why did I have to be so stupid?_

_Why did I ever start drinking?_

_I’m so sorry that I did this to myself, that I did this to us, Yuuri._

_Please forgive me._

But even as I think that, I know that Yuuri would tell me that there’s nothing for him to forgive. He would tell me that I shouldn’t beat up on myself, and that I should focus on getting well and coming home to him. We have so much to look forward to. This is difficult, but it is also a fixed amount of time. When I come home, we will have a lifetime.

So, I take in his love, accepting all of his warmth and holding him tightly as we share our last moments together before our parting. We bathe each other slowly after, lingering over each other’s bodies and taking as long as we can. But finally, there is no more time. We dress and head to the front door, where Maret waits for me. He’s quiet and respectful as I open the door and turn back to share a final kiss with my lover. Neither of us wants to let go, and I’m not sure where we find the strength…but somehow we do, and I call Maccachin to come with me, then I turn away and follow Maret to the waiting car.

I can’t think of a word to say as he gets in on the driver’s side and we pull away. I can’t look back because I can feel in my heart that Yuuri is inconsolable now. But Sava is there, and he will comfort Yuuri until the tears pass and he makes peace with the silence and loneliness of our home.

As for me, I watch as we leave the familiar streets around my home and head to the edges of the city, where the recovery center sits on a calm, quiet piece of rural property. It’s actually quite a beautiful place, and it will be a tranquil setting, despite what has to happen there.

When I arrive, Stefan is waiting at the door for me. He hugs me and takes me inside, leading me to a small, quiet room, where I sit down with him and he goes over the program with me. There is a one week blackout period, where I will have no contact with the outside world. I will spend that time detoxifying my body and starting group therapy. I am one of twenty or so people currently in the treatment center, and I will have varying amounts of contact with them, depending on what groups I choose to join. He hands me a journal and pen.

“This will be your record of your journey. Write down whatever fills your mind and don’t worry. You are not required to share it, although you are invited to. Maccachin will stay in your room with you, and we will provide whatever you need for him as well.”

He pauses for a moment.

“Why don’t you call Yuuri and tell him you arrived here safely?”

I lower my eyes and give my head a little shake.

“He’s upset enough. Maret will tell him. I think it’s better to leave things as they are.”

“Okay,” Stefan agrees, “Then, I will need to take your cell phone.”

I hand it over silently and watch as he slides it into a locked file cabinet.

“You have some free time to settle in now. We already conducted the physical examinations, and tomorrow you will see a behavioral psychologist, who will interview you. Right now, I’ll show you to your room and you can look over the facility map and get to know where everything is.”

He leads me down a white hallway, pausing to point out the cafeteria, lounge, conference rooms, entry to the gardens, the swimming pool and a recreation room. We start down another hallway and a young man exits one of the room ahead of us. We start to pass by, but then stop and look more closely at each other.

“Vasily?” I inquire.

_I know him!_

“You two know each other?” Stefan asks.

“We do,” I affirm, “Vasily was the artist of one of the songs that I used years ago in one of my early programs.”

“It’s good to see you, Victor,” Vasily says, smiling at me, “Eh, I mean, except for being in rehab, I guess. What are you here for?”

“Ah, alcoholism. And you?”

He sighs and exchanges a glance with Stefan.

“Painkillers. Opiods,” he answers.

“When did you get here?” I ask.

“Just a couple of days ago. I can show you and Maccachin around if you like.”

He looks at Stefan in askance, and our counselor nods.

“I’ll leave you to it, then. Please be sure to introduce Victor to the others, then take him to room 116.”

“Sure thing,” Vasily agrees, “Come on.”

_It’s a comfort to actually know someone. Maybe that will make things easier._

I follow him around the facility, meeting the people who I will be working with in the group therapy sessions. I make notes into my journal so that I will remember them when I see them again.

Vasily – A rock singer and musician who composed a musical piece I used years ago in one of my early programs. He is twenty-nine years old and has dark hair and friendly green eyes. Likes to dress in punk t-shirts, jeans and boots. Addicted to opiods after an onstage injury.

Yegor – A large, muscular man with light hair and grey eyes. A gentle giant, but Vasily warns me he has a temper if he drinks. Addicted to alcohol.

Masha – A petite woman with dark hair, angry steel colored eyes and an attitude. Dresses in hipster clothing and wears long boots. Addicted to alcohol and stimulants.

Petya – A small, quiet man with brown eyes and hair. Introvert. Addicted to painkillers.

There are more, but this is just who I meet as Vasily shows me around, then takes, me to my room and leaves me alone there.

“I’ll be back around dinnertime,” he says, nodding, “You and Maccachin get settled in.”

“Thank you, Vasily.”

I watch as the door closes, then look around the simple room that I’ve been given. There is a single bed, a plain looking dresser, a small desk and chair, and a sofa that sits in front of a television. While I’m unpacking, Stefan arrives with the dog supplies I brought along for Maccachin. He stays long enough to make sure I’m settling in all right, then he leaves me alone again. I finish unpacking, then sit down on the bed with Maccachin beside me.

“Kind of reminds me of the dorms,” I sigh wearily, “What about you?”

I can see he feels the same.

“What should we do now?” I wonder aloud.

I look down at the journal I’ve been given, then back at Maccachin, and I give him a little, sad smile.

“I have an idea. You tell me what you think. I am going to write letters to Yuuri in here, so he will be able to read about everything I did. Maybe he can’t be with me here, but when I go back, I will be able to tell him everything that happened. Do you think that’s a good idea, Maccachin?”

He gives a little bark and wags his tail as I begin the first entry.

_Dear Yuuri,_

_It’s only my first hour here, but it isn’t so bad, really. I already met someone I know. There is a rock singer who composed a song I used a long time ago for one of my programs. He showed me around and introduced me to some of the other patients. It looks like there is plenty to do so I won’t get lazy and fat while I’m here. I don’t know yet how the food is, but I’ll bet there won’t be any pork cutlet bowls here._

_Macca and I miss you so much already. I still feel your warmth with me right now, so I’m okay. I’m just sad when I think of how long it will be until I see you again. But I will keep my promise to you. I will do my best here, and I will come back a better, stronger person. When we are married, you will never have to worry about me getting drunk and doing stupid things. That’s something to look forward to, da? Anyway, I’m tired and planning to lie down and rest for awhile, now that I’ve unpacked. I’ll write things down every day, and when we can talk again, I’ll tell them to you, so maybe you won’t worry about what it’s like here. It’s really okay so far._

_Please be sure to visit my mother and give her hugs for me. And take care of yourself, Yuuri. I want to come back and find that you are okay too, so don’t mope around too much and cry. Keep busy and train hard._

_All my love,_

_Vitya_


End file.
